Chaos Sundered
by Classic Mecraphone
Summary: Fighting Gods is what Adeyemi and the Kadingir are good at. Been doing it for decades. But when a routine hunt goes awry and they find themselves in the domain of beings much more powerful, yet eerily familiar, to their usual quarry, well...let the hunt commence. And if they completely upend the established balance of power in doing so? Well, Campione are troublemakers after all.
1. Prologue: Chaos Found

Prologue: Chaos Found

Kenny

(2669 A.D., Sol Standard Calendar)

I'd visited Paradies once a few years back. Nice place really. 2 large cities, about a dozen smaller towns and stuff like that, great temperate weather that was ideal for year round crop growing...best of all, the genetic makeup of the terrestrial life was actually close enough to Earths that we could live off the land straightaway.

Small wonder the original German settlers had named the planet, 'Paradise'.

Hell, I'd even gotten laid there, _despite_ my extensive prosthetics and enhancements.

...

Which is why the fact that all that remains of said world is a massive black hole really bums me out.

That, and the reality that a couple dozen million people went along with it. All because some idiots on the surface thought incarnating Leere of all deities was a _good_ idea.

Then again, those very same idiots are probably the ones on the ships we're currently pursuing. Who cares about the consequences if you don't have to deal with them?

"Ensign McDowel, are we prepared to jump?"

"Yes Captain, on your go."

Captain Davies leans back in his command chair and seemingly asks empty air, "Chesty, you have firing solutions for when we exit the jump?"

A disembodied voice sounds throughout the bridge, our trusty A.I. responding, _"Of course Captain, the HELGA will be ready to fire on your command."_

"Good. Don't wait for my command, fire when ready."

" _Understood Captain."_

A brief moment of silence as Captain Davies interfaces with his command station and then a holographic display appears in the corner of my vision, perfectly superimposed on whatever it is my eyes happen to be focused on at the moment.

00:59

1 minute to go before we start avenging Paradies.

I slowly flex my arm, marveling at the play of diamond infused titanium 'bones' and nanomachine enhanced carbon tube 'muscles', all overlayed by neutronium laced armorplast.

I may not be able to pull off sneaky, never mind that touching un-augmented Humans, even with my minimum force settings, is a _big_ no-no...but it's a worthwhile tradeoff when I can rip apart even an A.R.E.S equipped soldier with a single hand, and use my height of 2.2 meters to scare the Hell out of most people.

All so that I can do my duty as a member of _Kadingir_ _(Gateway of the Gods)_ _._ And, you know...keep an eye on my oldest friend.

The doors to the bridge slide open and speak of the devil…

Or in this case, speak of the Devil King.

Standing just shy of 2 meters tall, with dark skin that's packed with muscle and walking with a warrior's grace, shaven head and startlingly bright blue eyes, Adeyemi strikes quite the imposing figure.

And that's _before_ you notice the crest on his shoulder, a curled dragon surrounded by Angel Wings, denoting him as a member of the _Xul Etlu_ _(Demon Warrior)_.

Denoting him as a Campione.

And the grin he shoots me is the kind of grin most reserve for a friend that just got caught masturbating to a hologram of their crush.

"What's with the stare Kenny? Reminiscing?"

His voice is a surprisingly pleasant baritone, a stark contrast to his intimidating presence.

I glance out the forward view screens at where Paradies _used_ to be and quietly sigh.

"...Sort of."

I don't have to turn around to see Adeyemi's face contort into one of bloodthirstiness and vengefullness.

It's a face I'm used to seeing.

"Well in a few seconds we'll be adding one final memory to this whole saga. Let's make it a _good_ one, shall we?"

00:40

A grim smile appears on my face.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, King."

With that Adeyemi floats over to his throne, a centuries old Chaise style sofa with a high back and crimson embroidering that oversees the lower decks where Captain Davies and the rest are seated, preparing for our upcoming fight.

There's a pecking order that has to be maintained after all, even if all of us on this ship might as well be Brothers and Sisters.

00:32

My thoughts are interrupted by 2 melodic shouts of _"Master!"_ as 2 equally stunning beauties rapidly float over to Adeyemi's throne and promptly hug him with enormous smiles on their faces, enthusiasm practically leaking from their bodies.

At first glance one might be forgiven for thinking them concubines of the Godslayer...but a closer look would show the sigil of a _Xul Etlu_ tattooed onto their bare shoulders.

Much like Adeyemi, they also bear the authority and powers granted by a defeated God.

As the old saying goes, 'don't judge a book by it's cover'.

Adeyemi merely smiles indulgently and amusedly says, "You cut that a little close, you almost missed the opening act..."

The 2 of them then identically pout, causing me to chuckle quietly in amusement at their antics.

Much like how most people would never guess that they were Godslayers, their upbeat and mercurial attitudes would never imply that they were once some of the most deadly and emotionless survivalists this side of the Milky Way.

Sometimes they still are.

Angelique and Cassandra. Identical twins except for a few key differences. While Angelique has a mane of golden hair that flows down to the small of her back Cassandra's is silver and of equal length. The only other identifying factor is Angelique's strangely colored pink eyes while Cassandra has bright crimson ones.

Other than that, they might as well be perfect clones of the same body type.

1.6 meters tall, youthful appearances that suggest maybe 15-16 years of age, slim legs and arms and a French-Quebecan ancestry evident in their soft and angular faces.

...Oh, and they're only clad in ancient Earther belly-dancer outfits, Angelique's stark white with gold trimming and Cassandra's pitch black with red trimming.

For whatever reason those 2 are only ever comfortable when on display...not that any of us are really bothered by it.

Casual nudity has been widely accepted among most Human cultures for centuries now.

00:05

"Initiating Alcubierre Drive, jump commencing in 3...2...1."

No sooner does McDowel complete his sentence than _Right to Rule_ almost imperceptibly shudders and the starfield that had been displayed on the monitors minutely shifts position, our millions of kilometers distance crossed in the blink of an eye.

Humanity had long been stumped by the puzzle of achieving FTL travel and journeying amongst the stars in a timely manner that didn't mean entire generations could die of old age before the destination was even reached. Not that anyone _really_ wanted to travel around the universe at _c_ velocities anyway, since the slightest collision with any form of debris would rather definitively fuck up the ship pretty badly.

Around 2197 a working engine based off of, and named after, the 19th century physicist was built and successfully tested, revolutionizing space travel and allowing Humanity to traverse the galaxy _exponentially_ more efficiently. Trips that would have taken decades merely took months, potentially weeks.

While the actual mathematical and technical workings of an Alcubierre Drive are _way_ beyond my ken, the short and simple version of it's function is that it 'compresses' space time in front of the ship, allowing said ship to 'ride' on it's wake and achieve FTL speeds without actually having to work within inconvenient limits such as 'velocity'.

I like to think of it as the prow of a ship breaking the waves and making the journey smoother for all.

Regardless, one additional advantage an Alcubierre Drive has over it's more standard counterparts is that since it's essentially inertialess, extremely short and precise jumps can be made from a complete standstill.

Which is how _Right to Rule_ is now 14,000 kilometers away from the 3 escaped ships, rather than the massive distance it was a split-second ago.

" _HELGA firing."_

At Chesty's announcement another more noticeable shudder travels throughout the ship as it's HELGA (High Energy Laser Gun Array) mounted along the ships spine fires, 150 thousand megajoules of energy streaking towards the lead ship, a modified passenger liner from the initial scans.

The invisible beam of energy gets to within 500 kilometers of its target-

-and is promptly swallowed by a black hole that materializes directly in front of it, the blast completely nullified by the impromptu shield.

I can practically _taste_ the scowl in Adeyemi's voice as he asks, "Chesty, am I correct in assuming that gravity well was caused by Leere?"

" _That appears to be a safe assumption_ _Slayer_ _Adeyemi. Energy readings consistent with Heretical beings reality altering powers were detected before the gravity phenomenon was created. It seems unlikely that HELGA strikes or more conventional munitions will be effective given the combination of a divine beings extrasensory perceptions and the opposing ships sensors."_

"Hmm...agreed."

A wicked smile appears on my friend's lips.

"Chesty, prepare the Arc Cannon."

" _Understood_ _Slayer_ _Adeyemi."_

I nod in satisfaction as an additional viewing window appears on the main screens, _Right to Rule's_ forward prow slightly splitting apart to reveal a glowing set of railgun-like devices, installed with Adeyemi's Authorities strictly in mind.

 _Right to Rule_ is one of the newest _Emperor_ -class ships added to the _Xul Etlu's_ growing fleet of vessels, it's maiden voyage occurring almost 14 years ago during the final stages of the Pantheon Wars, one of the worst cases of Heretic God and cult activity since the 25th century that had ended in the almost complete annihilation of 7 inhabited worlds and required several different _Xul Etlu_ and _Kadingir_ battle groups to keep it contained until the Godslaughterer himself joined the fight and ended it within 2 weeks.

Appearing to be a combination of the old 21st century seaborne battleships and a more modern spacefaring vessel, an extended needle design, the _Right to Rule_ is almost 12 kilometers long and capable of subjugating an entire system by itself, carrying a full complement of ground assault and battlespace superiority _Kadingir_ teams.

The personal vessel of Adeyemi himself.

" _Arc Cannon is ready to fire on your command_ _Slayer_ _Adeyemi. Awaiting neural link for final targeting solutions."_

Without further ado Adeyemi reaches for the arm of his throne and unhooks the small corded jack attached to it before plugging it into the small socket at the base of his skull.

Neural implants are tricky to install on a Campione's bodies, their naturally tenacious healing factor constantly trying to reject the hardware, but the Godslaughterer, Adeyemi's mentor and the founder of both the _Xul Etlu_ and _Kadingir_ , had created a set of spells and enchantments that allowed such implants to be installed safely.

An act that is now about to be fully unleashed upon Adeyemi and Chesty's hapless targets.

Even if said target is a God.

" _Slay the Dragon, slay the Serpent. Shatter the sky and bring_ _forth a raging storm!_ **Ternion Thunderlord!"**

As Adeyemi's chant dies down a surge of power can be _physically_ felt by all of us, the Authority usurped from Teshub being brought forth and directed at _Right to Rule's_ Arc Cannon, the lines of electricity suddenly behaving far more frantically than they were a few seconds before.

"Ok Chesty, all set here..." Adeyemi mutters, "Go ahead and give me a target lock."

" _Acquiring fire solution. Solution acquired, ready to fire on your command."_

"...Fire."

No sooner do the words leave the massive Devil King's lips than a mirror bright _storm_ of lightning leaps forward from _Right to Rule_ and streaks towards the distant motes of light that represent our targets.

 **Ternion Thunderlord** affords Adeyemi control over all types of electricity and it's myriad forms, when given the power of an _Emperor_ -class ship's weapons like the ones onboard _Right to Rule_ , the results can be truly devastating.

When Leere manifests a singularity in the path of the encroaching beam of energy, Adeyemi simply wills the storm to go _around_ it.

While a few arcs are caught in the inescapable trap that is a black hole, the majority avoid the obstruction and hit their targets with lethal efficiency.

2 ships aren't so lucky, the corkscrewing waves of man-made lightning striking their engines and superheating the metal composites into a fast moving wave of heat and pressure that breaches the onboard reactors and detonates their hulls in a brief but violent explosion. The 3rd vessel fares slightly better, it's engines largely destroyed and hull breached in several glowing spots where errant strikes hit home, but still largely intact.

Adeyemi grunts while Angelique suddenly pipes up with, "You missed the most important one Master!"

Cassandra nods thoughtfully and concludes, "The God is still alive on that ship..."

" _Slayers Angelique and Cassandra are correct_ _Slayer Adeyemi. Energy readings and intuitive sensing from our shared perceptions conclude that there is a 99.13% chance that the Heretic being is still alive."_

A feral smirk adorns his features as he softly growls, "Well let's fix that then, shall we? Chesty, ready a nuke and 5 decoy missiles, time it so that the next shot from the Arc Cannon all hit at the same time."

" _Understood, preparing firing sol-warning, energy and gravitic readings increasing rapidly!"_

The spoken alert is more for my sake along with the rest of the bridge crew's, since the 3 Campione had simultaneously tensed as soon as Chesty began his warning, no doubt tipped off by their extrasensory perceptions.

Adeyemi recovers first and barks, "Chesty! Can we use the Alcubierre Drive?"

" _Negative. The local gravity metric has become both unstable and far more powerful, Alcubierre travel is impossible. I hypothesize that the Heretic being has undertaken a last ditch effort to kill us alongside itself by enlarging the singularity that consumed Paradies to massive proportions."_

I inwardly curse, a notion seconded by Adeyemi except he's _way_ more vocal about it.

One drawback to Alcubierre Drives is that they need to be largely free of gravity wells before they can be engaged, 1/20th of Earth standard gravity is the accepted safe-limit and self-evidently we're _way_ beyond that.

 _Right to Rule_ suddenly lurches violently, even the state-of-the-art inertial dampeners unable to block off the motion, and McDowel shouts, "We're being drawn in towards the center of the singularity Milord! Our physical state engines don't have the power to tear us free!"

All of our faces turn grim and Captain Davies carefully asks, "Chesty, what are the odds of anyone surviving if they abandon ship right now?"

" _Unfortunately zero Captain, and while I regret being the bearer of bad news, the singularity is only increasing in strength_ _as time goes by. I estimate we have about 1 minute before we are fully entombed by_ _it_ _."_

We're all quiet for a second, shocked by the sudden turn in our fortunes, when Adeyemi quickly orders, "Have all crewmembers brace themselves for evasive maneuvers and lock down anything that might be loose! Chesty, McDowel, give me your best guess at a straight shot through the event horizon of that Son of a Bitch! We'll get out by going _through_."

" _Such an action has never been attempted before Slayer Adeyemi and while theoretically possible it is_ extremely _unli-"_

"If you've got a better idea I would _love_ to hear it! Otherwise shut up and do as I said!"

" _Understood."_

I hop up next to my oldest pals throne and mutter, "Survive the black hole by diving _into_ it? Your mentor would be proud of how crazy you are..."

He chuckles before motioning to the 2 sisters who wordlessly glide to his side and they all join hands before closing their eyes.

On some of the cams displaying the outside of the ship a Golden force-field suddenly snaps into place, a pulsating shield covered in hieroglyphics provided by the 3 resident _Xul Etlu_.

For the longest time, all the way up to the 21st century in fact, it had been thought that only Heretic beings could manifest the golden defenses provided by Divine power, a thought that had been resoundingly proven false when the Godslaughterer had manifested one. All these centuries later those shields have become a staple, if somewhat last-ditch due to their energy requirements, tactic of the various _Xul Etlu_.

And ideally it will keep us alive despite the rather sizable odds stacked against us.

I take another look at some of the outside cams and can't help but be shocked at just how _fast_ we're approaching the black hole. Either that or the thing has been getting alarmingly bigger these past few seconds and we didn't even notice…

The general alarm suddenly sounds throughout the ship and Captain Davies' calm voice warns everyone to brace themselves while Chesty relaxedly announces, _"Course plotted, the rest is up to you Slayers."_

Not that Adeyemi or the Sisters respond, they're too deep in concentration trying to keep the barrier up around the ship as best they can.

...Wish there was something I could do to help. I'm fairly useless in situations like these…

" _Coming up on accretion disk._ _Arriving at Event Horizon in 7 seconds."_

Perhaps the most shocking thing about this whole venture is how _fast_ it's happening. Hell, there hasn't even really been time for a proper accretion disk to form, it's mostly just comprised of some stray dust and melted hull pieces, hardly anything impressive…

" _Event Horizon breached."_

Chesty's maddeningly calm tone announces our likely death as if he was merely asking for a lunch menu and by now the 3 Campione are visibly sweating from the effort of maintaining the field and keeping the insane gravitational forces from disintegrating the ship.

And then Chesty announces the final step of our journey in what feels like no time at all with, _"Breaching singularity in 3...2...1-"_

* * *

Adeyemi

I blink.

I blink again.

…

Well I'm pretty sure I'm not dead, if the 2 painful grips on my arms are any indication of my status of being.

Thankfully my link with Chesty doesn't seem to be damaged.

"Chesty, what happened? How much time has passed?"

" _We appear to have successfully navigated through the singularity Slayer Adeyemi, despite the..._ unnaturalness _of such an action. Additionally no more than 8 seconds has passed since we entered the singularity, you merely assumed time had passed likely because the Human mind is un-equipped to comprehend the act of traveling through a black hole."_

I snort in amusement.

"I know, right? It's almost like that's something that doesn't happen all that often."

Chesty remains quiet and I instead take stock of everyone else around me.

Angelique and Cassandra quickly let go of my arms once Chesty had confirmed we weren't dead and are now merely staring at me with curiosity in their eyes, patiently waiting for any instructions I may have.

Heh, like I have a clue of what's going on yet…

"Ensign McDowel, Chesty, any ideas on where we are?"

They're both silent for a moment, Captain Davies communicating and taking stock of the condition of the rest of _Right to Rule's_ contingent, when McDowel hesitantly replies, "Milord...I think we're in the Quantum Sea."

…

Seriously?

"Seriously?"

Chesty intervenes with, _"Ensign McDowel appears to be correct Slayer Adeyemi. Energy readings are consistent with what little records we have of the base state of reality, not to mention that certain physics based phenomena, such as momentum and distance, appear to have no discernible affect in this location. Although I would refer to this_ _location_ _as '_ _Paraspace', as some of our physicists have taken to calling it."_

Kenny snorts and adds, "I always got the Quantum Sea and the Dirac Sea mixed up..."

My brow furrows and I confusedly ask, "Wait, aren't they the same thing?"

Angelique interrupts with, "No Master, I think the term your looking for is, 'The Primordial Soup'."

We all look at her strangely until Cassandra lightly shakes her head before gathering her sister in a hug, one hand gently cupping a breast and causing Angelique to pleasantly hum as she chides, "No silly, that's something different you're thinking of."

With an utterly serious expression on her face she concludes, "The right term is 'The Primordial _Stew_ '."

That drags a snort from all present and 2 smiles appear on the sister's faces.

They certainly know how to ease the tension in the room.

I clap my hands and announce, "Ok people let's get busy finding out where, if _that's_ even a thing, we are and how we might get out of it. Kenny, Captain Davies. You 2 start prepping the rest of the _Kadingir_ for combat situations, there's no telling what we might run into out here...wherever 'here' is."

I receive a round of affirmatives and Kenny briefly stops by the Captain to work out responsibilities while I turn to my 2 pets.

"Ready to explore the unknown girls?"

2 beaming smiles and a chorus of, " _Yes Master!",_ are my responses and I fondly smile.

Heavens know what I would do without these 2's ability to make any situation seem less terrifying than it actually is.

I sit back on my throne, my 2 darlings taking up seats on either side, also plugging in interface jacks to the back of their skulls, and tell our A.I., "Get ready to record and potentially translate whatever we sense Chesty, it might be weird out there."

" _Understood Slayers, begin at your discretion."_

I take a deep breath and pause for a moment to synchronize with the Sister's minds, before the 3 of us reach out with our Magical senses and-

-and…

…

What the _Fu-_

A wave of power unlike any I've ever sensed before _slams_ into my head, a pained grunt escaping my throat and while the sisters are silent, far more used to pain in all it's myriad forms than even I am, the terrified expressions on their faces tell the whole story.

Shit, I'm probably not looking any better myself.

"..-emi...Hey, Adeyemi! Snap out of it dumbass!"

Only a few people in the universe _dare_ talk to me that way and I'm willing to bet it's my cyborg buddy doing the yelling right now.

I refocus and sure enough I see that tinted visor of his focused intently on me, arms held loose and ready to combat any potential threat.

"Relax Kenny..."

I glance at Angelique and Cassandra and breathe a bit easier once I see them rapidly gaining control over their emotions and again awaiting further orders, pink and crimson eyes staring into my own blue ones.

"We're fine...although I get the unpleasant feeling that Leere _might_ have sent us here as a form of trap..."

"What? What makes you say that?"

My mouth settles in a grim line and I dully reply, "Because I felt tens of _thousands_ of Magic signatures with power equivalent to a Subordinate God, or potentially even a Heretic God."

Kenny takes this rather awful news without so much as a sound or flinch before he carefully asks, "That's not the worst of it though, is it? Your expression is giving it away."

I humorlessly chuckle.

"The worst of it is the 4 presences we felt _aside_ from those other beings...Kenny, I've never felt power like that before, and I was there when the Godslaughterer finally took to the field during the last days of the Pantheon Wars. Shit, that didn't even come _close_ to what these things felt like...Like raw emotion and power given conscious thought..."

My oldest buddy is silent for a few seconds longer before he carefully asks, "You don't think we somehow ended up in the Domain of Immortality...do you?"

I give that a moment of real thought before I shake my head.

"I don't think so...most of the smaller thousands I sensed seem pretty identical to the big 4 in some way or another, not the melting pot of different deities and ideas we've always assumed the Domain would actually be. I think we've ended up in some bizarre alter-world or parallel universe, to be quite honest with you."

Kenny shakes his head and mutters, "Gotta love Mondays...alright so what's our next move gonna be?"

...Yah, what indeed?

I glance around the bridge and find everyone now staring at me, patiently awaiting my decision, no doubt alongside everyone else onboard _Right to Rule_.

"Chesty, any luck finding out where we are or if we can leave at all?"

" _Unfortunately I haven't yet reached a conclusion regarding_ _either_ _one of those subjects Slayer Adeyemi. For the moment I would advise your instructions to be made on the assumption that we will be unable to return to our original reality."_

"Great..."

I lean back on my throne and lock my hands behind my head, momentarily overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation.

At times like this I try to remember my mentor's words.

' _Oh, so you don't have all the information? And by extension that means you don't have the answers? Welcome to the Human fucking race. Seriously, if there's no clear answer, don't be afraid to just act on whim. The_ Kadingir _exist to serve the_ Xul Etlu _, and nothing is more terrifying to them than a Campione that can't make up their mind. And if you end up making a wrong decision? Well tough beans, you should have thought of that before you killed a God dumbass. Do what any responsible person would and clean up your own damn mess. That's the only sort of apology the_ Kadingir _will accept.'_

...And he's right. We're stuck in a completely unknown plane of existence, surrounded on all sides by potentially unfriendly Heretic beings with no readily available method to get home.

Any direction is as good as the next.

With that in mind I suddenly sit upright and ask my adorable little slaves, "Well girls? Thoughts on whether those things out there are actual Heretic Gods or not?"

As usual they give a lot more thought to the matter than they probably need to, before they unanimously reply, _"Yes Master, they are the enemy."_

...Even after all these years spent together it creeps me out slightly when they speak in perfect unison like that.

It means they're preparing themselves to fight and kill.

Putting that aside I glance at Kenny and he gives me a simple, resolute nod.

Well that's it then.

Abruptly I stand up and activate the ships intercom.

"All hands this is Adeyemi. As you've no doubt heard the rumors by now, allow me to confirm! We are indeed in some sort of parallel state of being, although initial scans have revealed that there are thousands, potentially _tens_ of thousands of Heretic-class beings around our immediate area. Our mission has not changed! We'll set course for the nearest of these beings and do what the _Xul Etlu_ and _Kadingir_ do best! Lock and load people, we've got some more deicide on the schedule for today!"

I close the channel and let a feral grin paste itself across my face.

Nothing puts me in a better mood than the opportunity to put those arrogant Gods in their rightful place…

"Great speech pal. I hope you have a plan of action to back it up with, or you're just going to look silly."

I snort at Kenny's words and relax backwards onto my throne with a contented sigh.

"Of course I have a plan. Angelique, Cassandra?"

They do their eerie perfectly symmetrical nod thing and move to sit on either side of me, the 3 of us once again joining our minds as we begin searching, far more carefully this time, for our first quarry. Within seconds we have it.

A titanic, fluctuating mass of power that feels like fury and death combined, distilled into a corporeal form with just a dash of madness to top it all off.

 _Perfect_.

"Chesty, can you give us a general orientation towards that signature we're sensing?"

" _Yes Slayer Adeyemi, although I wish to reiterate that distance seems to be an arbitrary concept in this dimension, our trip may take no time, or_ _quite a bit of_ _time."_

"And we won't know for sure until we actually start moving, now will we?"

" _Understood. Initiating Alcubierre Drive according to extrasensory guidance."_

 _Right to Rule_ shudders ever so slightly-

-and in the blink of an eye a supremely _massive_ range of active volcanoes appears on the forward view screens, extending for hundreds upon hundreds of kilometers in either direction. What's _especially_ weird is that there doesn't seem to be a planetary surface or anything like that below them, it's just the range of mountains seemingly floating around in whatever this dimension is.

Looks like we've reached the gates.

Now how to knock…

"Chesty, anything special about that giant mountain range of fire and death? Aside from the fact that it looks freaking _huge?_ "

" _Nothing too far out of the ordinary Slayer Adeyemi, although_ _there_ does _appear to be several curious life forms appearing out of the mountains surface."_

"Put them on screen."

A few displays blink on across the main viewfinder and I give a low whistle. I'm passingly familiar with most of the religions Humanity has come up with over the millenia and I'm pretty sure freaky shit like this was never part of any culture's Hell.

Strange, bipedal creatures made of rock and magma rise out of the ranges like bizarre lava zombies and stare balefully at where we're drifting a couple dozen 'kilometers' away, their hate almost a manifest thing.

I'm honestly tempted to tell Chesty to nuke them, just to see what happens, but reign in my destructive impulses, reminding myself that we really don't have any idea what we're dealing with.

With that in mind I turn to the sisters, about to ask them if they sense anything when I notice they're both standing unnaturally stiffly, almost as if in a trance.

...They must be receiving Spirit Visions of some kind, a lucky break for us that they can still be received in this plane of existence. Holding my silence I watch them for a few more seconds, idly wishing that I had a bit of Witch blood coursing through my veins like they do, when they suddenly snap to attention and look at the ring of rock and fire with equal parts trepidation and curiosity, or at least as much of those emotions as they can currently display, which isn't much.

They're starting to shut down the closer and closer we get to actual combat.

" _Khorne's Rage..."_

I furrow my brow and pose an open question.

"Chesty, got anything on a deity named Khorne?"

There's actually a second or 2 of silence, something rather unusual since Chesty can typically pull an answer out within fractions of a second.

We must have really stumped him…

" _Negative, Slayer Adeyemi. I searched for the name 'Khorne'_ _and even cross-referenced it with volcanic activity sources but found nothing. It is entirely possible this is a new God we're dealing with, one not before encountered."_

"Seems likely..."

I once more eye the sisters but they're still blankly staring out at the ring of volcanoes, hardly moving a muscle and quite frankly it's making everyone nervous.

Something that freaks out a Campione is something to be feared for _sure_.

I gently put my hands on their hips and slowly pull them back to sit on either side of me, shifting my grip so that I'm hugging them to my side.

"Angelique, Cassandra, try to relax a bit...we're in this together, and you need to put up a strong front for everyone else who doesn't have our kind of power, remember?"

They're both silent for a few seconds before taking shuddering breaths and quietly intoning, _"Yes Master."_

As soon as those words leave their lips they relax _slightly_ , still cold and calculating in their demeanor but no longer acting like they're machines.

...I'm not in any position to complain though. _I'm_ not the one who survived the Holy Purges on Alighan for years on end, only to be captured and made the playthings of Moloch itself for almost 2 straight months before I finally tracked that sick fucker down with an army at my back.

I should just be glad they can display _any_ kind of emotion…

I shake those depressing thoughts out of my mind and instead focus on the more enticing ones of tracking down this 'Khorne' and slaughtering it just out of principal.

I have some emotional baggage of my own when it comes to Heretic Gods...

I steal one more glance at the massive mountains of rock and fire, manned by unknown demonic creatures, that bar our way forward and smirk at the challenge they represent.

"Chesty, how do you like the odds of split second Alcubierre jump in this mess of a dimension?"

" _As long as a set destination can be located I foresee no problems. My initial hypothesis is that in this terrain knowing_ where _you want to go is less important than the how."_

I shake my head in bemusement before settling further into my throne.

"Kenny, get suited up and have the _Amelatu_ _(Gatekeeper)_ ready to go. Also prep the _Isten Baba_ _(First gate)_ for taking a 'beachhead', have the _Sana baba_ _(Second Gate)_ and _Dugnamtars (Fate Speakers)_ alongside the _Gibils (Ones of Fire)_ stay on board. I dunno how this place works but if anything boards _Right to Rule_ I want forces on hand to shut them down. Get to it buddy."

A grin of his own on his face, or at least as complete a grin he can manage with a prosthetic lower jaw, he gives a lazy salute, 2 fingers bouncing off his forehead as he replies, "Already on it. We'll be tearing down the front door before you know it."

As he leaves the bridge I hear Chesty announce, _"Alcubierre Drive prepped for jump Slayer Adeyemi, awaiting coordinates."_

I nod and quietly say, "Alright girls, here we go..."

I mentally receive acknowledgments, along with a brief sharing of gratefulness, before we again meld our minds and start searching for a way through our current roadblock.

Anything for you, my lovelies…

* * *

"Chesty, we've got something for you."

It'd taken almost an hour of intensive and more than a little nerve-wracking searching to finally find a way through the massive wall of volcanoes, the ginormous constructs seemingly made out of malice and bloodlust incarnate.

Trying to find a 'path' through those emotions without being overwhelmed by the raw _fury_ they emitted would have been damn near impossible if Angelique and Cassandra hadn't been by my side, each of us relying on and communing with the other's thoughts to help keep us focused and sane.

But we did it.

" _Coordinates received Slayer Adeyemi, initiating jump."_

The front screen blinks-

-And suddenly the unnatural barricade that was those volcanoes is gone, replaced by a vast plain of...well, I'm fairly certain it would fit some primitive civilizations idea of Hell.

A tortured sky that alternates between crimson red, smoky black and burning yellow, with the occasional lightning burst thrown in for good measure. Oh, and I can't forget the tornadoes of what looks like flames, ash and _blood_ of all things.

The ground isn't much better, being an uneven and constantly shifting slurry of steaming rock, glowing crevices and roaming... _things_.

What the fuck _is_ this place?

"Master?"

I glance over at Cassandra and almost flinch at the murderous look on her face before her bright crimson eyes lock on mine and she says in a quavering voice, "Look below us...it's just like on...on Alighan."

 _That_ gets my attention and I focus my mind on the airspace below where _Right to Rule_ is hovering on it's anti-grav engine-

-and feel my lips pull away from my teeth in a snarl.

"Chesty, cam the area below us."

The A.I. wordlessly complies and the main monitor displays an overhead image of a building that looks to be styled after some insane artist's idea of what a Gothic Industrial Revolution factory would be, all sharp edges, buttresses and thick columns of smoke pouring from crude smokestacks, the whole nightmare almost 10 kilometers across.

It's what's _inside_ that causes me to feel a rush of burning rage. While I may not be as skilled in sensing raw emotions as the sisters are, in this case I don't need to. Whatever is happening in that factory look-alike is something I wish I would never have to sense again in my life.

Torture.

Pure, unrelenting _torture_.

What sounded like tens of _thousands_ of souls endlessly screaming themselves insane as they were branded, whipped, beaten or crushed had pounded through my head and it's only with a monumental effort that I tear myself away from the stream of agonized consciousness, teeth bared and fist clenched hard enough to crush steel.

Cassandra's icy glare at the image convinces me that she'd be only too happy to see it go up in flames and my wordless question to Angelique is answered with a freezing whisper of, "There's nothing we can do, they're too far gone. All we can do is put them out of their misery Master...just like Sister and I had to on Alighan..."

I give her a brief squeeze around the shoulders, the only comfort I can offer at the moment since my own mind is rapidly getting over it's fear of this place in favor of fantasies of tearing it apart and order, "Chesty, bring the HELGA to bear on the factory below us. Destroy it."

" _Understood Slayer Adeyemi, bringing_ _the_ _HELGA to bear now."_

While I don't feel it, the artificial gravity generators on _Right to Rule_ being state of the art, my ship flips itself nose-down so that the spinal mounted laser array is aimed directly at the center of the factory, a brief _thrum_ noise sounding out as the gun charges itself.

" _HELGA firing in 3...2...1."_

For the briefest of moments the building below us shimmers as if caught in a heat haze...before a detonation powerful enough to cause a massive mushroom cloud appears, the construct scattered to the four winds as the energy released is equivalent to 750 twenty megaton nukes all being set off at the same time, creating our own little slice of Hell in this maddened place.

With a contented grin I sit back and once again reach out with my senses, sensing that while they haven't necessarily been 'freed' the many different personalities are no longer bound to that prison.

My grin is wiped out a split second later as _something's_ attention is abruptly focused on me, a feeling not too dissimilar to what an insect might feel like as it's pinned beneath the observation table. The presence transmits a mix of emotions that could only be classified as amused rage, before just like that it leaves and I release a shaky breath.

Looks like our little destruction of the local scenery attracted this 'Khorne's' attention.

Good.

I hate waiting.

" _Slayer Adeyemi, I'm detecting a strange energy phenomenon about 20 kilometers away from_ Right to Rule _. Energy patterns are reminiscent of gravitic and teleportation anomalies. I suggest we prepare for an assault."_

My voice is but a purr as I quietly reply, "Yes...yes we _should_."

I contact Kenny and ask, "How's the _Isten Baba_ looking? You all ready to deploy?"

" _Just give the word, Captain Davies and Chesty have been keeping everyone updated as things go along, not to mention our boys and girls are all keyed to the 9's after your little speech, even if they're all scared shitless by our more-or-less universe hopping trip."_

A smirk adorns my face and I retort, "Well I've got something that should keep them occupied then. Chesty says that this 'Khorne' person just opened up some kind of portal bout 20 kilometers off our bow, why don't you take the _Isten_ and go say hello?"

Anticipation is thick in his voice as he replies, _"Oh I'd be_ happy _to. We'll scout around and kill some stuff, see what we're up against. Be sure to get all of us when this inevitably goes sideways, would yah?"_

"But of course, what would I do without my best meat shields?"

" _This is an open channel by the way."_

My eye twitches as I hear several snickers and laughs over the comms and Captain Blackstone's amused voice as he says, "We love you too King."

...We're a professional military outfit, I promise.

"Get to work you clowns, you're not being paid to be funny."

I sign off and turn around to find Angelique and Cassandra looking slightly amused, even through their cold indifference.

" _He_ _got you that time Master."_

I give a mock glare towards them and playfully squeeze their asses in admonishment before dryly retorting, "Laugh it up while you can, I'll get him back yet."

* * *

Kenny

" _Isten Baba_ , drop!"

The side hatches of _Right to Rule_ suddenly slide open and without even a trace of hesitation all 152 members of the _Isten Baba_ , myself included, throw ourselves out into the nightmarish hellscape that is...wherever it is we ended up, I dunno.

The organizational structure of the _Isten Baba_ is simple, hearkening back to the oldest days of organized military and still using quite a few of it's ideas on hierarchy, with a few modern improvements.

120 standard assault troopers, 40 of whom are automated _Hercules_ -class combat droids,equipped with A.R.E.S. Mark IV's (Armored Reaction Enhancing Suits) and organized into 4 platoons of 30 troopers each, 10 droids per platoon with 20 biologicals.

Each platoon is under the command of a Sergeant and Lieutenant apiece, all of whom answer to Captain Blackstone, who is guarded by 6 of the toughest troopers available so that he can command from the battlefield without having to worry about inconvenient things like enemy forces.

The last, but certainly not least, element of our drop force are the 16 S.S. (Second Skin) suits, 17 if you include me, who typically split into groups of 4 and move around to provide fire support as needed by Captain Blackstone.

Maybe not the most streamlined of command chains, but it's worked for our particular _Kadingir_ 30 years and counting.

In the blink of an eye our 2 kilometer drop to the surface is practically finished, the A.R.E.S. equipped soldiers flaring steel-silk parachutes to halt their descent enough so that their armor can absorb the heavy impact while us S.S. operators take a more direct approach and let our suits artificial musculature and servos absorb the incredible shock.

While your more 'typical' A.R.E.S. suit only stands about 2 meters tall, looking like a combination of cybernetic gorilla and the centuries old 'Terminators' from the film of the very same name, S.S. suits are a cut above the rest in both power and size.

Standing almost 6 meters tall, S.S. suits tend to resemble bipedal humans clad in the centuries old 'Conqueror' armor design, just with the steel and leather replaced with the highest grade diamond-infused titanium, the weapon propelled by a state-of-the-art system of hydraulics and servos that do an excellent job of replicating Human movement.

Additionally, S.S. suits are _personalized_.

A.R.E.S. suits tend to be light on decorations, the environmental camouflage tech that let's them blend in seamlessly with their surroundings not handling extensive decals all that well, the only personal touch usually being their platoon's symbol emblazoned over their shoulders.

S.S. suits are too big to effectively use the camouflage systems that the smaller A.R.E.S. employ, so the operators tend to get a little crazy with the colors and paintings

Heck, Barry, or 'Ironside 9' as his callsign, has his decked out in a nauseatingly bright neon green with white highlights, several decals of puppies and kittens plastered over the main body.

Then again, Barry has always been a little strange…

" _Estocs, get over that rise and give me eyes on that portal I keep hearing about. Halberds, Claymores and Tomahawks advance in a 3-point formation. Ironsides 1-4, keep pace with the Estocs and the rest of you attach yourselves to each platoon, keep your eyes open for any potential hostiles, we don't know how things work in here."_

Captain Blackstone's calm orders spur everyone into motion and the advance party speeds off, clocking in at speed upwards of 150 kmh simply on the suits natural speed alone.

The rest of us quickly organize ourselves and I glance upwards through the 'eyes' of my personal S.S., the _Amelatu_ , just in time to see _Right to Rule_ shotgun hundreds of pebble sized battlespace drones ahead of us, the minuscule cameras and sensors providing us a rapidly growing tactical overlay of the environment.

" _Captain, we've got visual."_

 _Lieutenant_ Rico's voice sounds out and I immediately tune into the feed he's providing, feeling my mouth tighten into a thin line as I see the bizarre scene the Estocs are currently watching.

A massive crater almost a kilometer across, filled with wildly frothing red liquid and crazily twisting skeins of energy, and out of it come pouring a collection of creatures that are more than a _little_ freaky, even by _our_ standards.

Hoofed, reverse jointed legs, gnashing jaws full of shark-like teeth, red fur and muscle the color of blood, horns like a particularly violent goat, taloned hands holding a variety of weapons that glow eerily with some arcane energy...and that's just _one_ type, although they seem to make up the majority.

There's some armored looking creepos that are dripping molten lava, beasts that look like a freight train and rhino hate-fucked each other...it's a mix that would no doubt leave most people in need of extensive therapy.

For us it's just another day in the office...I still remember the time we had the misfortune to track down Xochiquetzal, who had incarnated on the planet La Fortaleza. Originally meant to serve as a checkpoint planet for those wishing to enter the República Española, it had been overrun by the Aztecian God of fertility and love after she had been summoned and turned the place into a veritable Hell of peace and love and rampant growth.

I'm never going to forget the sight of 2 intertwined kids, both who couldn't have been older than 11, with plant roots growing out of their reproductive organs and butterflies resting on their stitched-shut eyelids and mouths.

I shake away that particular set of memories and focus on the moment as Captain Blackstone orders, _"Open fire and keep them pinned down from whatever that spawning point is, we'll be at your position in 2 minutes."_

" _Copy that Captain. Ok Estocs, let's show these Dante's Inferno rejects how we say hello!"_

As the rest of us charge forward I keep an eye on the displays that are showing from our allies helmet cams, hoping to get an idea of what we're in for.

The first bit of good news? These things aren't resistant to conventional weaponry.

Most of the Deities back in our universe could either shield themselves from our weaponry for insane amounts of time, outlasting us until we ran out of ammo or power and in some cases they could confer that same durability to their minions, meaning it was the _Dugnamtar_ or even the Campione who had to deal with them, our weaponry and tactics being only mildly effective, if at all.

These targets aren't _nearly_ as tough.

The first gauss round fired from almost 2 kilometers away by Estoc 2 drills a hole right through one of the creatures' heads, vaporizing it in a spray of blood and a transference of kinetic force that sends the corpse wildly spinning away.

Another catches a burst from a laser carbine in the center of it's chest, the 100-megawatts of power blowing it's torso apart in the equivalent of a 2-kilogram of conventional explosives detonation.

Scenes like this repeat themselves up and down the lip of the crater, the creatures apparently caught completely off guard as they howl and immediately charge forward, obviously baying for blood.

Thankfully none of them seem to have much in the way of ranged weaponry, meaning they have quite a distance to cover before they can get into melee, but unfortunately they're _very_ quick on their feet and seem to have insane levels of reaction time, a fair number of the creatures actually _blocking_ hyper-velocity rounds and other munitions with their weapons.

Sure, the rounds knock them on their ass for a few seconds, but then they're back up and sprinting full bore ahead.

...They're still dropping at a pretty significant rate though. The 30 members of Estoc are a well oiled machine and are quick to switch up their tactics mere seconds after it becomes clear that their targets can block their shots on a fairly consistent basis.

Instead of individually picking out their targets they slave their targeting software over to Chesty who rapidly assigns 2 Estocs to a single target, ensuring a clean kill since despite their supernatural speed, the things obviously can't block 2 sources of fire from 2 different directions.

The new tactic works and the beast's charge falters, the augmented reactions provided by an A.R.E.S. and the lighting fast targeting of the _Hercules_ combat droids ensuring that every second there's 15 confirmed kills. With only a quarter of a kilometer covered and their initial numbers of a few thousand rapidly dropping, things look pretty well for our opening act, even accounting for the constant stream of additional Demon-things climbing out of that weird portal.

Hell, the 4 S.S. suits that went with Estoc haven't even started shooting, waiting until additional firepower is legitimately needed.

And then Murphy's Law decides to throw a multi-tool in the proceedings.

The small hill Esotc was using as a vantage point suddenly rumbles and Lieutenant Rico, correctly assuming that this realm has a nasty trick or 10 up it's sleeve, yells, _"Estocs, fall back and watch your footing!"_

Not a second too soon as the entire area cracks in half, a massive gorge forming below the trooper's feet and a surge of boiling magma pouring out and covering the cracked ground with it's burning contents.

Most of Estoc gets away just fine, their armor protecting them against the few cinders that do impact on their armor but it reveals a new wrinkle that we'll have to keep in mind.

This realm is just one giant enemy that we're going to be fighting every step of the way.

It's not the biggest of obstacles, we've had experience in fighting Heretic Gods that could reshape the landscape around them on a staggering scale, but still an annoying one.

" _Alright boys and girls form up and prepare staggered columns, we'll put these things through the meat grinder treatment."_

There's a chorus of 'yes sir!'s from the gathered troopers and they quickly take their positions across the fields, each trooper at least 10 meters away from their nearest battle-buddy, allowing them some leeway in evasive maneuvers as well as room to let loose with the heavy stuff if need be.

As quickly as it came the crevasse disappears, the lava it left behind still hissing and spitting on the ground, creating maybe a kilometers worth of distance between _Isten Baba_ and the now gathered host of demonic beings.

…

I think I'm just going to start calling them Demons for simplicities sake.

With a warbling, insane cry that would no doubt leave lesser men and woman pissing and shitting themselves the Demons charge forward, the bipedal ones Estoc has been shooting up bounding across the plains in massive strides while the bizarre metallic ones slowly shuffle across the field in leaking masses.

The rhino/freight train variant are a good deal more intimidating though, loping heavily and occasionally even being ridden by one of the smaller Demons, their nasty looking teeth appearing powerful enough to tear through heavy armor plating.

" _Wait till they cross half-a-kilometer mark, then hit them all at once. S.S. squads, focus fire on those bestial ones, we'll handle the rest."_

There's several acknowledgements and all of us ready our weapons, firing lines already showing up on our visor displays so that there's no risk of overlap.

" _Open Fire!"_

Our extended line just _explodes_ as a bewildering variety of munitions streaks towards the onrushing hoard with _lethal_ results.

Covalent assault rifles quite literally unravel Demons at the molecular level, the kaleidoscope of colors that result from said unravelling unsettlingly out of place on this Hellscape.

Pulse rifles fling sun-bright packets of condensed plasma at the enemy lines, slagging whatever's unfortunate enough to get in the way and flash-blinding anything dumb enough to stare directly at the approaching shots.

Kinetic weaponry, now configured for fast, sustained shooting instead of the long distance kill-rounds that the Estocs were using earlier, pours streams of shatterslugs into the Demons, the rounds splintering on impact with flesh and metal, making a bloody hash out of whatever soft tissue they hit and knocking armored targets around without mercy.

Laser rifles, now switched to rapid-fire mode that can deliver bursts with the energy equivalent of 200 grams of conventional explosives every tenth of a second, as opposed to the 2 kilograms of a single, stronger burst do their invisible work with lovely efficiency, parts of Demons suddenly bursting into ash and blood with no visible cause.

And that's just the A.R.E.S. and _Hercules_ combat droids, the S.S. suits are unleashing a pounding that the 135 smaller armed troops can only dream of.

Massive arm-mounted chainguns fire depleted uranium bb's that are superheated before being launched through magnetic rails that accelerate them to insane velocities, the weapon looking as if it's spitting a constant stream of white fire. The armored rhino beast's armor protects them for all of maybe a split second before the released heat and kinetic energy tears them apart in an explosion of disintegrating flesh and ceramics.

Heavy shoulder-mounted laser cannons, big brothers to the smaller weapons wielded by the infantry, fire 1 gigawatt beams every twentieth of a second in a constant stream of devastation, the invisible lines of released energy causing a near continues chain of explosions as whatever they touch is superheated beyond it's ability to cope.

And each and every one of these shots goes exactly where it's meant to, not a single weapon is left idling and we're slaughtering these Demons by the hundreds every few seconds.

But there's just so damn _many_. In the blink of an eye their numbers seem to have swelled to _tens_ of thousands, the entire legion of snarling and screaming creatures never breaking or running, absorbing our volleys and charging on regardless.

While they're gaining ground _extremely_ slowly, the realities of war dictate that they only need to keep charging for as long as we have ammo, at which point they'll overwhelm us as power packs run dry and solid state ammunition is expended.

And while we're no slouches when it comes to hand-to-hand, those blades of theirs don't look like something we want to experience firsthand.

And sure enough after maybe 2 minutes of unceasing weaponfire calls start to sound out along the battlelines.

" _Estoc 17, down to my last mag!"_

" _Claynore 19, my pulse rifle's overheating!"_

" _Ironside 7, chaingun ammo depleted!"_

The thing about holdout missions like this is that it only works if the enemy can be taught to fear...or if you kill all of them.

 _These_ Demons only seem to be more excited the more of them we kill _,_ and since they're apparently infinite in umber, or at least close to it, we can't really go with the 'kill em all' option.

" _Maintain positions, Waterboy drones have been dispatched."_

Chesty's calm voice sounds out across our comms and sure enough a few seconds later the 'Waterboy' drones, spiderlike robots ladened with a variety of supplies and munitions, scuttle back and forth across our positions replacing magazine slots and cooling cell holders with an unerring precision, guided by Chesty and each individual suits data readout for maximum efficiency.

This isn't the first time we've been in situations like these.

With everyone topped off again and the Demonic advance only moving at a crawl I do some quick mental math and deduce that within 8 minutes I'll need to step in with the _Amelatu_ if we want to beat back this never ending stream of freaks before they close the distance.

Although...it might not hurt to let them get up close and personal, if only so that we can properly ascertain what they're capable of at ranges they're at home with.

After all, that's our job as _Kadingir_. Support our King through whatever means and costs necessary, even our lives.

A small smile crosses my lips as I gaze up through my suit's optics at the gently hovering hulk that is _Right to Rule,_ wondering when Adeyemi is going to get bored and join the fight himself.

* * *

World Eaters Traitor Legion

They could _smell_ the prospect of battle even without the aid of their God, without the psychic emanations traveling throughout the realm of Khorne and the unceasing call to _go here_ and _slaughter them all_.

Combat and death was it's own reward.

Once proud Astartes, now warped into the terrifying and near-unstoppable juggernauts known as Khornate Berserkers, moved as one as they prepared to engage in their own form of worship.

One of their number let out a guttural chant of, "Skulls for the Blood God! Skulls for his Skull Throne!"

The litany was rapidly picked up by the other hulking Chaos Space Marines as Chainswords and Power axes were revved to life and unlimbered, Power Fists were flexed and the few Bolters amongst them were checked for full functionality, until it was a repeated shout that echoed through the blasted plains for kilometers around.

50 disciples of Khorne, traitors to the Emperor and the Imperium, moved as one towards the scent of blood and death, anticipating the opportunity to spill blood and harvest bones for their Lord of Battle.

* * *

Adeyemi

...I can't believe that I'm saying this, seeing as how I'm watching people I consider Brothers and Sisters fight a desperate battle against a strange and implacable foe, in another dimension that is _very_ different from our own, that is seemingly ruled over by some variant of a Heretic God that is _insanely_ powerful, far more powerful than the sisters and myself combined, but...I'm _bored_.

Sitting on high and observing things has never really been my style.

I heave a sigh and ask, "Chesty, any new information on this dimension? Or on anything really?"

" _Unfortunately not Slayer Adeyemi. Initial scans and observation of_ Kadingir _mental states and mood fluctuations hint at the possibility of the environment affecting their minds in some subtle way, but there is no concrete evidence as of yet."_

I lean my head back against the throne and heave a defeated sigh before I once more glare at the giant rift that's spawning a seemingly infinite number of those creatures.

...Screw it. Let's see if we can plug that thing, shall we?

"We'll go with you Master."

I do a double take at Angelique's sudden words and I confusedly ask, "Did I-"

"-Say that out loud? No Master, but we're-"

"-Familiar with how you think, and besides, we-"

" _-Want to kill those things too."_

As they simultaneously finish their declaration I feel a violent smirk cross my face and playfully give their nipples a tweak, earning pleased looks from the 2 of them and I growl out, "Then let's show those Gods out there why they should _fear_ us, shall we girls?"

The pleasure they were displaying a split-second ago disappears as quickly as it came and their voices are cold enough to freeze interstellar space.

" _With pleasure Master."_

...It's good to be among like-minded people, even if they still sometimes scare me a bit.

I abruptly stand and make for the bridges exit, ordering over my shoulder, "Captain Davies, you have command of _Right to Rule_ in my absence."

He briefly nods and replies, "Yes Milord, and good hunting." before going back to his station to continue coordinating and observing things as they appear.

The sisters rapidly gliding along in my wake we quickly make our way to my ship's armory and head towards 3 imposing storage containers, the things almost 3 meters tall and made of matte-black metal. I place my palm on the scanner located on the main 'door' of one of the container and it slowly opens with a hiss of depressing hydraulics as it confirms my identity, Angelique and Cassandra repeating the action on either side of me.

As the main door moves aside the room's lighting catches the object ensconced inside and I can't help but mutter, "Well _hello_ beautiful...".

Inside is my own personal armor, painstakingly handcrafted by both my Mentor and the _Xul Etlu_ member known only as the 'Forge Master', his real name never offered to _anyone_ as far as I'm aware.

The Forge Master, as his name implies, is in the unique position of having not one, but _3_ different Authorities related to blacksmithing and is capable of creating and combining metals in ridiculous ways.

Take Kenny's body for example. It has fucking _neutronium_ , collapsed star matter, integrated seamlessly into his limbs without any adverse effects, something that even modern tech wouldn't have a prayer of recreating.

While my Mentor has an Authority that allows him to freely alter and create Magic on the fly, and the Forge Master has ones that allow him to create stupidly powerful materials, the 2 of them combined can build _terrifyingly_ effective constructs.

Such as my armor.

A few centuries back they began the tradition of outfitting a new _Xul Etlu_ member with their own personal piece of equipment and, as they proved themselves worthy of the _Xul Etlu_ crest, they could commission additional works.

Both Kenny's body and his personal S.S. suit, the _Amelatu_ , were my additional orders and I haven't once regretted asking for them.

Breaking open the seal on the back of my armor I step inside and as it gently flows around me, feeling about as heavy as a light breeze, I take a moment to marvel in the rush of power it brings as my neural implants connect with the suits onboard computer and suddenly it no longer feels like I'm inside a suit of protective metal and ceramics.

Instead I _am_ the suit of metal and ceramics.

Magnitudes more powerful and durable than the standard A.R.E.S., outfitted with almost every conceivable Magical protection that my mentor could think of (Which is _a lot_ ) I take a step forward and grin like a schoolboy at the metal _thud_ that resounds throughout the deck.

I gently brush my fingers over both the _Xul Etlu_ crest on my right shoulder pauldron and the symbol for 'performing the unusual/impossible' on my left, a slanted _N_ bracketed top and bottom by parallel lines, a throwback to my Afrikaner heritage.

Heaving a deep breath I glance to either side and see the Sisters suited up in their own armors, although theirs are completely devoid of any color or decoration aside from the _Xul Etlu_ symbol, being a jet-black in coloration.

They prefer it that way, since whenever they wear this armor it usually entails them having to kill something.

"Ready girls?"

2 wordless nods.

"Then let's head to where the fun is!"

* * *

 **And that cues the end of the prologue for Chaos Sundered! I was surprised as all heck to see that one of my favorite sci-fi series (Warhammer) and one of my favorite anime/LN's (Campione) didn't have a single crossover! Which strikes me as bizarre, considering that there's a number of interesting parallels between the 2 in content, if not tone (Then again, the only other franchises that are as Grimdark as Warhammer could be labeled as depression porn...)**

 **For any Campione vets you've no doubt noticed that this is _far_ into the future of the canon version of Campione, but the basic structure still exists. Humanity did indeed start traveling the stars and colonizing other worlds but Heretic Gods came with them, religion being a rather important part of our cultural mindset. And, just like in canon, Campione are the preferred method of dealing with them, although there's a great deal more structure and support offered to them, courtesy of this 'Godslaughterer' that has regimentalized them to a degree. There might be some allusions to characters from that universe but I doubt I'll directly include them into the story, since the act of universe hopping is rather difficult...**

 **My upload schedule for this story is likely gonna be pretty slow, as I'm currently have a set schedule for one that I'm writing and another that I like to update at least semi-regularly but the opportunity to elaborate on all the interactions between the Imperium and the Campione universe is too damn fun to overlook.**

 **...Also the showdown between Tuska and the Godslayers is gonna be _amazing_. These guys have never had to face something so Orky before.**


	2. Chaos Engaged Part 1

Chapter 1: Chaos Engaged (Part 1)

Kenny

 _"Demons on your left Claymore 3!"_

" _Copy that, moving to intercept."_

" _Ironside 3, need supporting fire 200 meters ahead of Halberd 21!"_

" _Tomahawks heads up! The floors getting all pissy again, displace and find new positions!"_

" _Copy that Captain!"_

It's with a critical eye that I watch the unceasing dance of quick tactical retreats, re-positionings and formation adapting as the _Isten Baba_ continues it's holding action against the seemingly never ending tide of Demons. While there have been moments where it seems like we're pushing them back, or are being pushed back, the tide of battle has more or less reached an equilibrium that doesn't look like it's gonna be changing anytime soon.

I should have knocked on wood, as the old saying goes.

" _Estoc_ _1_ _3 here, I've got visual on some weird Demons that look like they're wearing some wack-ass armor or something, hard to t-OH SHIT!"_

I snap the _Amelatu's_ viewfinders towards Estoc 13's position and can't help but raise a non-existent eyebrow at the sight.

Around 50 or so armored figures are sprinting headlong towards our line, a variety of weapons raised and if the audio from Estoc 13 is to be believed, are chanting _war cries_ of all things.

The language seems vaguely familiar, a bit like old Latin, although I can clearly make out the name 'Khorne' amidst the chants.

...Religious zealots, great.

Seems there's plenty of those no matter _what_ universe you end up in.

Unfortunately for us these particular zealots are packing some serious heat, as well as the knowledge on how to use it.

Estoc 13 is the first one to take several hits from these newfound opponents, as well as the first of the _Isten Baba_ to die in this battle.

Several of the armored figures raise firearms that look as if they could pass for centuries old submachine guns...provided said weapons were sized for people 2.5 meters tall. Several _CRACKS_ loud enough to be heard even across this battlefield reach the _Amelatu's_ auditory sensors and Estoc 13 jerks violently, the rounds actually _exploding_ as they hit his armor and leaving massive dents and craters in it.

Explosive-contact ammunition then, or some variant of it. Not powerful enough to crack through A.R.E.S. armor directly, but hit by enough shots…

The question is soon rendered academic as one of the hulking figures wielding some kind of chainsaw-axe unleashes a devastating downward blow towards the staggering Estoc 13, 13 barely deploying the forearm-mounted blades of his suit to ward off the blow.

Except it's _not_ warded off, instead 13 is forced to his knees from the force of the hit, his arms slowly being forced onto his head as the howling figure forces it's weapon downwards.

...So they're stronger than an A.R.E.S. suit? _That's_ not good.

13 never gets to test his armor's durability against the insane warrior's axe as all of the sudden one of those Demon-goat creatures leaps forward and expertly shoves the business end of it's sword through 13's faceplate, shattering the armorplast facebowl and killing him almost instantly.

Shit, so those swords of theirs are powerful enough to tear through our protections with little difficulty? Another bit of info to keep in mind…

I'm pleasantly surprised when the armored figure suddenly hews the other Demon in half with his axe, angrily screaming at the other creature while it does so.

I guess there's no love lost between factions there…

I spend the next few seconds observing these new foes, taking stock of their strengths and weaknesses, provided they have any.

The armor they wear is freaking massive, not to mention heavily decorated with all sorts of archaic symbols and skull motifs. And while it limits their range of movement-you could feed a family of 10 if you turned those shoulder pauldrons into a soup bowl-it's self evidently powerful and their operators obviously know it's limits and strengths.

A team of Estocs lays down fire on these new arrivals and I scowl as the majority of our munitions barely scratch the surface of their suits.

Kinetic rounds shatter in a spray of sparks leaving only minor scrapes, laser weaponry barely even heats the surface and covalent streams dissipate in an orgy of colors, some form of spells or other Magic keeping the composites from disintegrating.

Meanwhile these Demon troopers are charging forward, weapons pounding out a steady stream of unnervingly accurate fire and 'primitive' weapons raised high as they scream a litany of chants that the translation software doesn't have real guesses for.

A small silver lining though. In close combat, in a 1-on-1 scenario, things seem fairly even.

While those Demon trooper's suits are tough as nails and more powerful than ours, they're bulk and weight makes enough of a difference that the A.R.E.S. can outstrip them in terms of speed.

I personally watch Estoc 19 duck under a killer swing from one of the maddened troopers and dart forward to land a full-bodied hook on the side of the Demon-

-that only slightly jostles it before it yells in rage and 19 has to leap backwards to avoid the return swipe of it's chainsword that would have connected with his neck.

Similar scenes play out all along Estoc's lines, with high-speed melee and split-second firefights breaking out everywhere and quite frankly that wouldn't be too much of an issue.

Except the rest of the damn Demon-goat things are also bounding forward in massive strides now that they're no longer under fire.

While the Demon troopers and other creatures end up fighting each other as much as they do the Estocs, we're starting to take some losses.

Estoc 3 has to spin away from 2 of the charging troopers so they can't take her on at the same time and loses her head as one of those oddly glowing swords perfectly slices through the joining of her helmet and neck armor, it only being of slight consolation that her 2 would be opponents then angrily pulverize the other Demon that took out Estoc 3.

Similar scenes start to play out and by the time we lose 3 troopers and 2 of the _Hercules_ combat droids I realize this might be the time for me to step in.

With a brief mental command through my link with the _Amelatu_ my personalized S.S. hums to life, smoothly rising from where I had it idling in a crouch, optics scanning the entire battlefield and relaying information back to _Right to Rule_.

The _Amelatu_ is quite a bit different from the standard S.S. suits that typically stand only 6 meters tall. At 8 meters she's even more physically imposing, as well as less humanoid in shape.

Back in our universe there had been a world that had what is unanimously agreed upon to be the most terrifying insectoid species ever encountered by Humankind.

Terrace III was home to the _Cazador_ , a predatory creature as big as a Human's torso that looked like a Praying Mantis had hate-fucked a Tarantula Hawk Wasp and generally inspired nightmares in Entomophobiacs the universe over.

Naturally, I had styled the _Amalatu_ after the things.

Pitch black with segmented limbs and serrated fingers, jointed legs with razor sharp blades attached to the feet as well as retractable wings that have a few nasty surprises of their own. Even the head's sensors bear a passing resemblance to compound eyes when the face-shield isn't down.

Much like the insect it's designed from, it's built to win.

With a snap of my wrist the _Amelatu's_ right arm-well, _my_ right arm really, given the link between my body and the suit-snaps to rigidity and the fingers rotate to form a pentagram shape as an energy emitter built into the palm begins to glow.

Within seconds the glow becomes more pronounced as magnetic fields built into the suits fingers have to restrain a wildly oscillating ball of plasma that forms in the palm of my hand, the orb painfully bright to look at without some form of eye protection.

I raise my arm and sight on where the Estocs are locked in their frantic fight against the Demonic groups and announce, "Estocs you've got 10 seconds to clear the area. Plasma Caster firing will commence then, target radius will be marked."

I don't receive any spoken acknowledgements-they're too busy for that-but several status windows flash green signifying they got my message.

Grinning predatorily I reach out with my mind, aided by the link I have with the _Amelatu_ , and examine the Magic inscribed on my right arm.

While I was never much of a Magician, Magic has come a long way in the past few centuries. Simple Spell effects can now be activated at will by anybody with a basic amount of Magical knowledge and the [Containment] formula is one of them.

A push of my mind sets the Spell to keep the plasma ball being held steady in my palm restricted for about 4 kilometers before all the energy contained within will be released, a distance far enough away that the Estocs won't get flash-vaporized.

"Firing now!"

With the sound like a thunderbolt being unleashed the white hot flare of plasma is released and tears straight for the battle that had been occurring between our forces and the Demonic horde.

Having forewarning of the approaching projectile the Estocs quickly scatter, maneuvering jets flaring to life and augmented limbs pushing them out of reach of the Demons.

The armored ones look briefly stunned at the sudden turnaround before aggressively charging-

-and in the blink of an eye 9 of them are burnt to ash as the miniature sun streaks by, anything within a 5 meter radius of the bolt being slammed with temperatures that are more appropriate on the surface of an active star than they are here.

The round continues on and wipes out a few dozen of the Goat-Demons before it reaches the 4 kilometer mark-

"Everyone Duck and Cover!"

At my words everyone lowers their visors and ducks low, ready to take the ensuring explosion on the armor-

A miniature sun springs to life on the barren wasteland with _devastating_ effects.

The wave of heat and pressure that races outwards once the compression Spell cancels itself utterly destroys anything within a kilometer in any direction, with the worse yet to come. An absolute torrent of solar flames follows the initial blast and at a glance 95% of the Demons still waltzing about are burnt to death within seconds.

Unfortunately the Demons wearing that bulky armor weather it just fine although it _does_ catch them off guard, all of them staggering about while we handle it far better than they do.

I smirk at the giant dust cloud of ash and embers before announcing, "Don't get distracted boys and girls, there's still work to do."

A chorus of acknowledgements sounds out across the channels and the _Isten Baba_ reforms itself, picking off stragglers and re-engaging the armored Demons as they shake off the effects of the explosion.

This time around _they're_ the one being pressed though, 8 S.S. units adding their heavy weapons fire to the mix and dropping 10 of them before the remaining 30 or so get smart and take cover behind an upraised hill, furiously shouting the entire time.

Damn...so they're Berserkers that actually have tactical know-how? That's no fun…

" _Coming in from above you Kenny."_

I distractedly stretch the _Amelatu's_ arms out just in time to catch the Godslayer Sisters while Adeyemi lands on my right shoulder pauldron, their armor making a loud _clang_ as the boots magnetically affix themselves to my suit.

While the plasma caster wiped out most of the current threats that damn rift is completely untouched and spitting out Demons at an even _faster_ rate than before…

"So these are the appetizers, eh?"

I roll my eyes at Adeyemi's tone and dryly state, "You _do_ realize some of our guys are dead, right?"

"Eh, we'll fix that later."

...Fair point.

"So what's your thought on that rift thing? Your little nuke didn't do shit."

"I think this is a job for the _Dugnamtars_. Weird Magic stuff is their specialty after all."

His helmet bobs once in agreement and a second later his voice sounds over the open channel with, _Hey Brooke, Uli! Get down here and start examining this little tear in the fabric of reality, that's why you 2 get paid the big bucks."_

The _Right to Rule's_ resident insane Magician, Brooke, excitedly replies, _"We actually get to do something?! Oh King you're the_ best _! We'll be there in a flash, make sure we don't get shot or butchered, would you?"_

Uli predictably stays silent, letting his female opposite do all the talking.

Snorting Adeyemi cuts the channel and turns to Angelique before asking, "Well my Little Angel? Would you be so kind as to remove the freaks in our path?"

The golden-haired sister merely nods before jumping off the _Amelatu_ and stalking forward a couple of meters, where she plants her feet before locking eyes with the rapidly growing horde of Demons pouring out of the rift, now numbering in the thousands.

She slowly starts to clap her hands together, creating a monotonous beat and chants, _"_ _Khan of the Fire, honored Tengri of the 99 Sky Gods, hear the beat of my hands and the thump of my heart, deliver unto my skin a raging flame!_ **Epithet of the Inferno!"**

No sooner does her echoing chant fade away than the entire vista seems to briefly dim and grow silent...before a roar engulfs us all as Angelique's body transforms into a writhing construct of pure white flames, the burning tendrils swaying oddly, as if they were almost alive.

The fire of Arshi Tengri, the old Mongolian Hermit deity that Angelique killed 7 years ago, is always a treat to watch in action.

With a snake-like movement towards the enemy horde Angelique directs the inferno with brutal accuracy, hundreds of the Demons only having a split second to howl in dismay before the fire consumes them.

But instead of being turned to ash as they would in a more conventional fire, their bodies instead _unravel_ in scintillating arcs of light, the fire of a Buddhist God far more lethal than its more mundane counterpart.

In less than a minute every single Demon that had been jumping out of the portal is very, _very_ dead. Taking advantage of the lull in fighting the Claymores, Tomahawks and Halberds dart forward to secure the edge of the crater where Brooke and Uli will be arriving while the Estocs and 2 groups of S.S. suits keep those Demon troopers pinned down.

All the while Angelique is constantly sweeping the lip of the thing with massive gouts of flame, eliminating any Demon that tries to crawl its way out.

Another minute passes as we finish setting up before Adeyemi calls out, "All right Angelique, we're all set here!"

There's no spoken reply but the tidal waves of holy-fire quickly coalesces into the armored form of a Campione, Angelique briefly staggering at the sudden cancelling of her Authority before Cassandra quickly sets a gauntlet on her shoulder and steadies her.

"Good work Angel, keep an eye out for any further surprises. Cassy, get ready to activate Shu's Authority if need be, I doubt this Khorne guy is going to make things easy for us."

Cassandra merely nods in reply and I direct my attention to the rest of the _Isten Baba_ as they start to open fire on the Demons as soon as they appear over the edge of their portal.

It's a slaughter.

"Look sharp Kenny, our mad scientists are coming in."

I snap the _Amelatu's_ optics towards where _Right to Rule_ is barely visible through the embers and smoke of this realm and spot 5 ships swooping towards our location, 4 _Firefly_ -class interceptors and one _Fatman_ -class shuttle.

The shuttle slews in for a hot landing, thrusters kicking up a massive cloud of ash and dirt, while the 4 interceptors begin to loop around the area, running air-support for us if we end up needing it.

The rear ramp drops down and 2 armored figures immediately stride down it, both of them far more individualistic in their designs than most _Kadingr_ troopers.

Brooke has her A.R.E.S. armor painted in tones of white and red with a small white cape hanging from her shoulders while a crimson split skirt coves her waist and legs, the coloration resembling a millennia old Miko outfit.

A fitting appearance when one considers her Japanese ancestry and skill in Kotodama techniques as well as _Onmyōdō_ practices.

Uli, on the other hand, has his pitch-black armor decorated in the motif of a Raven, the helm having a slight sloping to it, similar to a bird's beak, while the fingers of the suit resemble talons more than they do anything else.

He's the spitting image of, 'Future Shaman'.

Adeyemi jumps down from my shoulder and approaches the 2 while Brooke happily waves in his direction and shouts, "Hey King, we're here! So this sucker here is the big stinking portal huh?"

"The one and only. You think you and Uli can shut it down?"

Ever the stoic one Uli's helmet just dips once in confirmation while Brooke gives a thumbs up and responds, "You bet your deified ass we can! C'mon Uli, get your mute behind into gear and let's get cracking!"

I see Adeyemi shake his head in bemusement-a sentiment I understand completely-and move aside as the 2 Mages head towards the lip of the portal, Brooke already removing several _Shikigami_ talismans from slots on her armor while Uli pulls out a bewildering variety of necklaces, charms and other such trinkets.

A quick scattering of the talismans by Brooke and a brief muttering of, _"_ _Make prayers to the Raven..."_ by Uli begins the process and odd skeins of light fly toward the portal, the talismans glowing in an odd variety of colors as they begin their examination while Uli just settles a hand on the cracked ground and crouches motionlessly.

With the 2 of them rapidly consumed by their tasks I turn back to the battle and find it largely unchanged. Every group aside from the Estocs is still spread out over the rim of the crater, firing highly accurate shots at every Demon that appears while the prior mentioned group is still dancing the deadly dance with those Demon soldiers, neither side really landing any kills for the past few minutes.

We don't want to get close to them since those melee weapons look pretty damn nasty, while they don't have heavy enough long-range weaponry to punch through our armors.

…

Things are going a little _too_ smoothly.

"Hey Kenny, is it just me or are things going a little _too_ smoothly?"

I snort and amusedly reply, "Funny, I was just thinking that. Whenever we hit a lull like this it's always followed by some unimaginably horrifying trap."

My oldest friend taps his foot once before turning to Angelique and Cassandra and asking, "Got any premonitions or things like that?"

2 heads shake in denial.

I hear him growl before going back to scanning the landscape, obviously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Hey King, got some interesting news for yah!"

Grateful for the distraction me and Adeyemi turn towards Brooke, who's still facing the portal with her fingers intertwined in an _Onmyōdō_ stance I'm not familiar with.

"Get this, you remember that time we ran afoul of Hades?"

Both Adeyemi and I wince in unison-or at least I assume he winces-and he dryly replies, "Quite vividly, why?"

"Well this portal thingamabobber is almost _exactly_ identical to those holes to the Netherworld he was tearing open, the few differences are negligible. Me and Uli can shut it down if you give us a few moments to prepare."

"Seriously? Well get to it then, I imagine most of us would be more than happy if this little excursion to Hell came to a close sooner rather than later."

"You got it King!"

The mildly unhinged Mage gets to work and starts sprinting around the thing, slapping Talismans on the ground as she goes while Uli opens up a port on his armor and slices open his wrist, rapidly drawing a few symbols onto the Talismans that Brooke left behind.

Some years ago Hades had incarnated on a world that had been colonized for almost a century and we'd gotten the call to go stop him. When we'd arrived we had found dozens of spatial rifts to the Netherworld that were pouring out undead beings, the zombies being easy to take down but seemingly endless.

Quite by accident Brooke and Uli had discovered that 2 different schools of Magic, both trying to close the portal at the same time, did something strange to the God's power that was keeping it open and caused the thing to collapse, giving us a way outside of a Campione's power to contain the situation.

…

It was an accident because the 2 Magi had been competing against each other to see who could close it first, seemingly ignoring the severity of the situation that was legions of undead trying to rip them apart even as they worked.

Some days those 2 hate each other, some days they can's stop fucking each other.

It's weird though, you'd think that this 'Khorne' would have way more power to throw around than just this-

No sooner does that thought occur than a wave of pure angry, joyous malice washes over us and Adeyemi wastes no time in yelling, "Everyone get ready, something's coming!"

And then I sincerely regret opening my big fat cyborg mouth about things going too smoothly as they abruptly _stop_ going smoothly.

All the Demonic bodies that weren't annihilated by Angelique's Authority or my plasma caster shot suddenly start repairing themselves, flesh and bone snapping into place while the few Demon soldiers wearing armor who had been brought down by more standard gunfire suddenly roll over and renew their assault, seemingly no worse for wear.

What the _fuck_?!

"Oh, great! The Son of a Bitch has reincarnation powers too!"

I ignore Adeyemi's exclamation for the moment in favor of trying to figure out what'll happen next. While there's only a small fraction of the Demonic bodies left mostly intact we've been killing them by the thousands for quite a bit of time now.

A 'small fraction' equals to almost 3,000 freshly revived Demons.

And they're located _right_ in the worst possible position for us, right up against our backs as we're still trying to seal up the void.

This ain't gonna end well…

And no sooner do I think that then my motion tracker starts pinging like mad, showing almost 500 hostiles approaching from over the plains.

We're _so_ gonna have to saturate bomb the area...

With an echoing howl from 3,000 throats and renewed chants from the armored guys Adeyemi orders, _"Firefly 1-4 hit the center of their formation! Estocs keep fire on_ _those armored guys! Claymores, Halberds and Tomahawks keep Brooke and Uli safe! We close that portal, we win this battle!"_

Adeyemi jumps down from the _Amelatu_ just as one of those Goat-Demons charges him-

-and promptly finds itself with a gauntlet shoved through its chest before it can even think about swinging, the Devil King casually chucking it's body aside and grumbling to himself, "We're in for a _long_ campaign..."

As the 4 A.I. controlled interceptors swoop in, their underslung thermal cannons blazing to life and showing why they're nicknamed _fireflies_ as enormous swathes of Demons are set aflame, I can't help but agree with him.

* * *

The Huntsman

 _The Lord of Battles has commanded us._

 _The Witch who prowls the edge of the Blood Pits…_

 _She is our quarry._

 _But before her skull can be reaped, there are 3 exceedingly powerful Psykers that stand guard…_

 _They will be the first to die._

 _A snap of our jaws and the Flesh hounds are loosed, charging_ _towards the 2 armored beings standing aside the large machine._

* * *

Adeyemi

Another one of the freaky Demons charges towards me, tongue hanging out as it whips it's blade around in an overhead slash-

 _-_ and finds it's face abruptly caved in as I rapidly step forward and ram an armored fist into it's skull, my natural speed as a Campione, body enhancements and upgraded armor placing me _far_ above the standard _Kadingr_ trooper in terms of raw strength and speed.

That said, the battle has completely devolved into a free-for-all mess at this point. Most of the _Isten Baba_ is having to split it's attention between 2 fronts, the newly revived Demons and the ones that were just reincarnated.

And then there's the approaching group of 500 to wonder about...and even better that group seems to be composed of creatures that are newcomers to the scene, some weird skinless wolf-gerbil things.

Of course, no sooner do I think that then I notice one of the Goat-Demons riding atop these creatures lock it's gaze on the sisters.

And it's no run of the mill Demon Goat like it's brethren, it's fur is far darker and unless the optics on my suit are all fucked up _flames_ are actually coming out of it's eyes.

A commander?

I turn to Cassandra, who's still awaiting my go to use Shu's Authority, and nod at her.

"Take em' out."

She doesn't even bother nodding and simply faces the oncoming hoard before chanting, _"_ _Divider of love, Divider of the sky. Grant me the desert winds so that I may fly._ **Khamsin** **Blitz!"**

A sudden gale surrounds her and with an unhurried motion she unsheathes a monomolecular blade from the holder on her armor, the meter long slightly curved sword practically invisible unless she holds it flat.

Well...not a _true_ monomolecular blade, early experiments had showed that a weapon only a millimeter thick, while _amazing_ at cutting things, broke laughably easy. The solution had been a blade a _few_ millimeters thick and slapped with tons of anchoring and reinforcement spells.

It's still incredibly fragile, a solid strike from an augmented Human wielding a hammer could smash it easy, and _very_ few people use it since it's such an insanely precise weapon.

But if you have a Godspeed Authority, and the reaction speed necessary to take advantage of that level of movement…

Well, Cassandra dissapears in the blink of an eye-

-and approximately 2 seconds later 500 Demonic hounds and their riders fall apart at the seams, cleanly cut to pieces without so much as a gentle breeze, the commander Demon in particular splitting into about 8 different chunks.

Reinforcements down.

The Silver-haired sister blinks into existence next to me no worse for wear and mechanically sheathes her weapon.

 **Khamsin Blitz**. A real nasty piece of work that can only be used if an enemy is trying to separate the user from an ally or friend. While useless when fighting solo or in space, since the Authority requires air to operate, being able to use Godspeed without limit aside from the strain that comes with employing it is straight up deadly.

I'm snapped out of my reverie at the sounds of frantic shouts and unceasing gunfire growing even more deafening and I turn my attention back to the battle going on all around us.

It's starting to swing our way now though.

In between the _Firefly_ Interceptor bombings and the S.S. suit's heavy firepower eliminating huge swathes of the Demons the sudden revival tactic, while definitely painful, hadn't been crippling.

" _With the cry of a thousand Tengu, with the prayers of luck and fortune,_ _seal this blight upon our eyes!"_

The simultaneous chant of both Brooke and Uli signifies the ending of their ritual and with a near blinding flare of light, even through polarized optics, a spiderweb of interconnected Spells and rituals surrounds the massive rift and with a noise that sounds like the fabric of reality itself screaming the massive rent in space-time zips itself shut, the sudden silence following it's disappearance absolutely deafening.

…

Well, that's _one_ battle won.

With the closing of the portal the rest of the fight seems to end in short order, the remaining Demons quickly falling to massed fire and the armored troopers that had been such a massive pain in the ass quickly finding themselves overwhelmed as Kenny joins the fray, the _Amelatu_ making short work of them.

...But damn if, like I said, this wasn't a rough opener. Of the 40 _Hercules_ -class combat droids only 19 are left standing, the rest sporting massive laceration damage or blown out limbs from those armored Demon's melee weapons and guns. Already retrieval drones are flying in from _Right to Rule_ to pick up the damaged bots and transport them into the repair factories.

As for the organic casualties? Not great either.

Of the 89 A.R.E.S. equipped troopers roughly 39 are left lying dead on the ground, most of them with busted faceplates or massively perforated chestplates where explosive rounds hit home enough times.

Depending on how many times we'll have to stop and fight, those kinds of casualties could quickly become untenable.

As if to drive the point home a wave of amused arrogance passes over me, Khorne apparently finding our 'victory' to be more of a joke than it is a setback.

...Ok.

Try _this_ on for size shithead.

" _Spirits of the dead, souls that wander as if lost! There exists no grave for you, no deep hole in the ground! Rise and laugh a skull's laugh, this Loa has a deal for you yet!_ **Guédé Contract!"**

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then bodies begin to rise.

Smoke that smells of ash and tobacco twists upwards from gaping holes in flesh, blood with the taste of Rum spills forth from wounds that are then sewn shut with a black and purple thread that disintegrates once it's work is done.

39 corpses rise from the ground in shattered armor and bearing battered weapons, a miracle that only the power of a God can create.

And they're _all_ complaining, the fucking whiners.

" _Urgh, I forgot how much dying sucks..."_

" _Forget dying, now the inside of my helmet smells like some old terrestrial smoke shop..."_

" _Hey at least that means your helmet doesn't have a friggin' HOLE in it. Ugh, the air in this place tastes awful!"_

I don't even try to stop my eyes from rolling and instead groan as a statistic pops up on my helmet's heads-up display.

"Tomahawk 14, this is the _86th_ time I've had to resurrect you in just 12 years. Do you shoot yourself in the head every time we sortie or something?"

14's voice, one Tanya Alowkovitz, cheerfully comes back with, _"_ _Aw well I knew you'd have my back King! And it's not_ that _bad!"_

"The next _Kadingir_ who's closest to you in times revived in Captain Blackstone. And he's been in this outfit for 6 _decades_ with only 51 deaths. If I didn't already know you people were all crazy I'd recommend you to a psych A.I."

That gets a round of laughs and most of the tension dies down.

 **Guédé Contract**. An Authority I'd usurped from Baron Samedi that, of all the various Authorities I possess, is my call to fame and the reason _Right to Rule_ is capable of subjugating several planets all on it's own.

A resurrection type power that has _very_ few limits, difficult to exploit weaknesses and a rather easy cost to pay. As long as a person is wearing clothing with the color black, purple or white and pledges to serve me and me only after their death, I can bring them back from the dead with almost zero cost.

There are workarounds, of course. Much like in legends if the corpse is put into a grave more than 1.8 meters deep and then filled, my resurrection won't work and they'll die a true death. Not to mention if I ever deem someone I've brought back to life as a traitor or not loyal to me I can simply 'rescind' their lease on life.

Not that I've ever had to do that. My _Kadingir_ is my family, and family fights and dies-at least for a short time-together.

I hear Captain Blackstone giving out orders for everyone to pull back to _Right to Rule_ and pull myself out of my brief moment of introspection to find Kenny, Angelique and Cassandra all looking at me.

"Don't tell me, let me guess. You want orders?"

"Actually Master, we were worried-"

"-That Samedi's Authority was about to-"

"-Start forcing you to pay it's price."

Kenny snorts before interjecting with, "Actually I was hoping for directions, but that's fine too..."

Chuckling I reply, "Well the direction part is easy. We'll regroup onboad the ship and push farther into this place in search of this Khorne jackoff. And don't worry about the Authority, it's not that strong of a compulsion yet."

Much like in Legend, using Baron Samedi's Authority brings with it the compulsion to indulge in rum, tobacco and sex, thankfully not in that order.

Rum just gives me whiskey-dick and while they never say it out loud I can tell the sisters hate the smell of tobacco, a sentiment I completely share.

Luckily I've had plenty of practice in resisting the pull of my Authority. I can last almost 24 hours before the compulsion becomes overwhelming, like the world's worst drug addict with the power of a God at their beck and call.

So instead of worrying about it I just give my 3 closest companions an ancient thumbs-up gesture and happily state, "Nice work people, well begun is half done."

"Such deep words of wisdom," is Kenny's sarcastic reply as he stretches out the _Amelatu's_ limbs, "You 3 want a ride back to the ship?"

I grin and hop onto the mech's head without further prompting while the sisters wordlessly jump onto it's arms.

"Onward, noble steed. Oh, hold on a second, I just need to leave a message..."

I turn towards the shattered wasteland that is our destination, take a deep breath and then shout at the top of my lungs.

"YOU SEE THAT, FUCKER?! YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WITH AN IMMORTAL ARMY? WELL GUESS WHAT? I'VE GOT ONE TOO!"

Amplified by my suit's speakers my voice reverberates throughout the landscape and within seconds there's a tidal wave of thwarted anger that comes from this Domain's God, along with a healthy dosage of eager battlelust.

Oh good.

We have an understanding then.

God vs Godslayer.

2 of us will fight.

Only one of us will walk away.

* * *

 **And that's the first part of Chaos Engaged, the campaign against Khorne, up and done! A few more key members of Adeyemi's army are introduced, some more Authorities are revealed, and the Chaos Space Marines make their first debut! Next chapter is the one I'm really excited to write about, as it's gonna introduce the Universe Hoppers to the lovely beings known as Orks :D  
**

 **Amatsumi: Next chapter will answer both of our cravings for what happens when people who've never met Orks before finally meet Orks :D and this story won't really focus on romance much, if at all. Even Adeyemi and the Sisters aren't going to be a main attraction aside from occasional backstory for context, there's so much lore and other interesting ideas to play around with that adding romantic subplots would be piling it on.  
**

 **edboy4926: This story is taking place after the events of the Gathering storm books, so basically when the galaxy is yet again in a cycle of general shittiness.**

 **Bornstellar: I've got a trick in mind for how the battle with Khorne will go, that both keeps in line with how powerful the Chaos Gods would be in their own universe and how the heck you're supposed to beat something like that.**

 **Captiosus: Then hoping you enjoy this chapter lol.**

 **Livelikeme123: ...Perhaps? (I'm not even being subtle am I?"**

 **shadow: Hope you enjoy this one then!**


	3. Chaos Engaged Part 2

Chapter 2: Chaos Engaged (Par 2)

Adeyemi

In an act that long ago exceeded tradition and became almost ritualistic in nature I reverently take a sip from the centuries old bottle of Bacardi Rum...and feel my mouth curl in distaste, even as a nostalgic feeling sweeps over me.

Sure, the actual drink itself has been replaced several times over, but it's the container that counts.

It'd been passed down through my family for centuries, the bottle itself being used as a sort of heirloom and inheritance. My Father had just given it to me for my 21st birthday, a sort of coming of age deal, when Teshub had incarnated and ruined my life in the span of less than a minute.

I'd gotten my revenge on him though...turns out Gods don't like it when you survive what should be lethal electrical burns and shove a kitchen knife through their neck.

Either way, all I'd had left by the end of that mess was my newly found status as a Campione...and this damn bottle, somehow surviving despite all the shit being thrown around during the Heretic God's rampage.

...I guess you could call it my last surviving link to my previous life, almost 93 years ago and counting.

Heaving a sigh I cork the thing and lock it in my strongbox, a Magically reinforced stasis pocket that can keep it's contents preserved for all of eternity, provided a steady source of power is provided.

Sitting on the edge of my sleeping pallet I affectionately run a hand through the Sister's hair, the two of them huddled together in a peaceful sleep that's hard to come by on most days.

...I dunno if it was the whole, 'getting transported to another universe' thing or, 'bajillion different gods all over the damn place and oh shit we're screwed' thing...but the sex had been _much_ more intense than it normally is, leaving them plenty worn out.

" _Slayer Adeyemi_ , _the armory is requesting your presence as soon as you are available. Initial examination of equipment and biological samples have yielded interesting results."_

I sigh and crack my neck before replying, "Ok Chesty, tell em' I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

" _Understood, Slayer Adeyemi."_

...Administrative details are _not_ my strong suit. Being a psychotic deity murderer _is_.

I'm just about to reach for the doors palm scanner-

-when every instinct I have _screams_ at me to get ready, **Ternion Thunderlord's** chant on the tip of my tongue as I whirl around-

-and have to blink once at the rather bizarre image in front of me.

A massive man wearing an _enormous_ suit of golden armor standing peacefully before me, a face like one of those old Terran Native American war chiefs, face regal and lined, bespeaking of wisdom and knowledge.

...The more rational part of my mind notes that the suit he's wearing is uncomfortably similar to the ones those crazy cult guys earlier had.

But what's up with the massive fuck-off claw on his left arm? Or the giant freaking _Eagle_ motif on the back? Are those even _practical_?!

Out of the corner of my eye I see Angelique and Cassandra already flanking this newcomer, awake and ready in a flash once they'd sensed danger.

"I mean none of you any harm, be at ease."

The voice catches me off guard, it being a roiling, authoritative bass that somehow also integrates compassion into its tone.

Scowling I growl back, "Yah, well, sorry if I'm a _little_ skeptical about that claim right there. That fancy armor of yours seems pretty damn similar to the ones some freakazoids we just finished fighting not more than a few hours ago were wearing..."

The being's face grows stormy for a second, not too dissimilar to a Heretic God's when they're sufficiently pissed, but the anger disappears after a moment and is instead replaced by thoughtfulness.

"An understandable conclusion, Child...but make no mistake, those traitors are no allies of _mine_."

"Oh yah? Care to prove it?"

"Unfortunately, I currently have no way of doing so. All I request of you is that you allow me the opportunity to explain."

The sisters shoot me brief glances and I slowly ease out of my crouch before walking up to the massive figure and extending a finger...that phases right through the giant's chestplate without a whisper of resistance.

Insubstantial huh? Well, that's good enough for me.

"Alright, feel free to start explaining."

The ghost person stares at me with a perplexed expression before politely asking, "Do you not wish to clothe yourself first?"

I glance down at my nude form alongside the sisters and shrug indifferently.

"I'm fine this way. Hanging my dangly bits out in the open isn't that big of a deal for me."

"Very well..."

Taking a moment to compose himself the phantasm begins in a sonorous tone, "I am called by the title, 'Emperor of Mankind' and I represent all of Humanity that live amongst the stars. Where you have arrived we call the 'Warp'. I'm uncertain if you have knowledge of an equivalent of the Warp where you come from, but in brief the Warp is a seething mass of energy, an inverse of our own plane of existence that can be manipulated by the emotions and will of those with a connection to it."

Cassandra suddenly murmurs, "I _knew_ it was like the Primordial Stew..."

I can't help but snort and wryly interject with, "Except for the direct manipulation part..."

There had been some theories back home that the Domain of Immortality where Gods reside was a form of Quantum Sea, being a completely different dimension that was somehow also connected to ours, shaped by our beliefs.

So I guess this 'Warp' is similar to that somehow?

...Wait...if they're similar...and those four Gods me and the sisters have been sensing can be considered the 'leaders'…and their power can be manipulated by Human emotions...

"Hey, Emperor Guy. You said you're the representative of Humanity, right? Just, uh...how many Humans are there, currently?"

"While the Imperium of Man once stretched beyond a million inhabited worlds, recent events have likely reduced that a few hundred thousand."

…

...What?

"I'm sorry, could you slow down with the movement of lips and tongue there for a second? I thought you just said, 'millions' of worlds?"

"At one time there was that many...not so any longer. Tens of trillions of Imperial citizens are now, in all likelihood, merely trillions."

…

"TRILLIONS?! On a million _worlds_?! How the _FUCK_ does that even _function_?! We only have a couple hundred and we can't get more than five planets to agree on anything for more than a few _years_!"

The slightest hint of a smile-or maybe it's a grimace, I dunno-crosses the man's face and he explains, "It is not a perfect system, especially the one that has arisen gradually over the past ten thousand years or so, but it _is_ workable. Unfortunately I do not have the time necessary to explain in intricate detail all the myriad facets of the Imperium's workings."

...Something about what he just said worries me.

"Wait, you said 'over the past ten thousand years or so'. Umm...this may sound a little weird, but you guys wouldn't happen to use a calendar that uses the Anno Domini dates would you? Or Common Era?"

If we didn't actually end up in another universe, but in the far _future_...well, that's not much better than an alternate universe, given the state of things, but at least we're somewhere familiar…

I bring my attention back to the armor wearing giant as he nods his head and replies, "While now called the Imperial Calendar, those record keeping terms were indeed used once. As of now it is year 012 M42, although you may refer to it as 41,012 AD."

My knees go weak.

"W-we travelled 38,000 _thousand_ years into the future? _Fokenwil..."_

38 _millennia_.

…

Well, suddenly the idea of Humanity having expanded to millions of worlds doesn't sound so dumb anymore...holy _shit_ , the level of tech these people employ might be _insane_.

"I actually do not think you have travelled into the future at all, at least not from your original plane of existence."

"What makes you say that?"

Appearing contemplative for a moment the giant slowly explains, "All living things, aside from a few select Xenos and specialized artifacts, can affect and _are_ affected by the Immaterium. They have, for lack of a more precise term, a Warp 'signature'. You and your allies don't have that. In fact, you are not affected by the Warp at _all_. You cannot interact with it or _be_ interacted with."

I try to wrap my head around that fact and can't help but ask, "Ok, but is that really such a big deal?"

"It is. You are not aware of this, but many mortals that would have attempted to cross Khorne's domain would have long lost their sanity, the corrosive powers of the Warp breaking their minds. Yet here you stand, completely unaffected."

I think on that and curiously reply, "If that's the case wouldn't we have nothing to fear from this Khorne guy? If he's composed of this 'Warp' power then it sounds like we would be immune to whatever he throws our way."

"Not entirely correct. You are still vulnerable to phenomena powered by the Warp, just not it's more intricate methods of mental contamination and manipulation. Were I to use the Immaterium's energies to create fire, you would still be burned by it."

...Of course, that would have been too easy.

This Emperor person again interrupts my thoughts, but this time a small smirk seems to dominate his face.

"Although, your non-reliance on the Warp to power your abilities no doubt explains why it was so effective against the Khornate worshippers. Ordinarily, Warp fueled abilities from all but the most powerful of Psykers are useless against them, but yours worked flawlessly. I imagine the Chaos God was unhappy to realize that facet of information..."

I merely nod slowly before scowling and retorting with, "This is all very interesting and stuff...but none of it has really convinced me that I _should_ trust you. Shit, for all I know you've just been spewing completely and utterly fake crap in an attempt to throw me off balance. Not to mention, now that I think about it, you feel pretty damn close to what these 'Chaos Gods' feel like in the first place!"

I hadn't done so when he'd first appeared, more immediately concerned about whether I was going to be attacked or not, but examining him with my supernatural senses revealed a being that doesn't fall all that short of Khorne's level of power.

Which is more than enough to make me _plenty_ suspicious.

Despite my accusations, all the man does is lightly shake his head from side-to-side and regretfully announce, "Much like I said before, I have no way of proving the level of trust you seek. We come from very different backgrounds and to adequately explain this universe's history in a way so that you _would_ trust me would take time I do not have. While powerful, I am incapable of directly challenging a Chaos God in their own domain and it will not be long before I am noticed and ejected from it."

I keep my scowl and ponder on his words, thinking things through as flexibly as I can.

New universe, new rules and all that…

…

Quite frankly, I can't think of a single reason _not_ to listen to this Emperor fellow. Not necessarily because I think he's trustworthy...but mostly just because everyone else we've encountered in this universe so far has been an insane, bloodthirsty abomination.

I don't exactly have the luxury of picking and choosing my sources of information…

I heave a resigned sigh and lock eyes with the self proclaimed Emperor of Mankind, grudgingly admitting, "Well, the crappy reality is that I simply don't have any way of deciding yay or nay whether you're pulling my dick. So hit me with the details you think I need to hear, Mr. Emperor."

Without further ado the armored giant holds up one of his gauntleted hands and in it manifests some strange looking mechanical device that looks-somewhat disturbingly-also organic, with an odd pulsation coming from it's center.

"This is called a Pharos, a device that should successfully allow you to navigate your way out of the Warp. If your ship's sensors are finely calibrated enough you should be able to exit the Immaterium with little difficulty at your desired destination. Once you do, attempt to contact my Son Roboute Guilliman or his Adeptus Astartes Chapter the Ultramarines. Failing that, ask for the Ruling Council of Terra. I will attempt to warn as much of Humanity as I can but my powers in that fashion are...limited."

I take the device, which has more than a little heft to it, and while I _really_ want to ask just what the Hell an Adeptus Astartes is, or how the _fuck_ we're supposed to find _one guy_ out of _trillions,_ I figure those fall under the, 'not enough time to explain' category. So instead I curiously go with, "Is there a way to just drop out of the Warp entirely and navigate _that_ way? This place sounds like bad news for anything that wants to continue living."

Eyeing me curiously he slowly replies, "You _could_ attempt to exit through the Eye of Terror...but aside from the significant presence of Chaos forces concentrated there, the Eye is a great distance away from any Imperium held territory. It would take you many centuries, if not millennia, to reach any destination that may be able to aid you."

I smirk and cheekily retort, "Not if you have an ftl engine."

"You need the Warp to travel at a speed faster than-"

"Different universe, remember?"

The Emperor's face suddenly brightens as he seems to get what I'm saying and eagerly asks, "You have a method of crossing the stars without need of the warp?"

"Sure do. We call it the Alcubierre Drive, compresses space-time in front of the ship, lets you move _really_ fast. Although velocity doesn't actually play a factor, so I guess saying we move fast is kinda misleading..."

Interest written all over his majestic face the Emperor asks, "Do you have an exact schematic of how such an engine works? If the Imperium-"

He suddenly cuts himself off and a brief moment of frustration is evident on his features.

"Unfortunate...if only we had more time. Child, I don't believe I ever was told your name. Or that of your companions."

I hike a thumb towards myself and reply, "Name's Adeyemi, 93rd Campione of the current roster of the _Xul Etlu_...not that that means anything here, actually. And the girls are Angelique and Cassandra. Angelique is the golden-haired one and Cassandra is the silver-haired one."

With a grave nod the Emperor says, "Well met, Adeyemi, Angelique and Cassandra. Now for my final request, one you may not be appreciative of hearing. Do not attempt to fight Khorne in _any_ manner. Leave his domain and immediately try to contact the names I provided you."

…

My voice is silky as I quietly reply, "You're right, I _don't_ appreciate being told that. Why, _exactly_ , should we _not_ attempt to do what we've been doing?"

Without missing a beat the gigantic man solemnly says, "Because Khorne is far, _far_ beyond your level of strength. While I may not be able to sense you in the Warp, I can detect the other form of energy that circulates throughout your body. Potent, and plenty powerful enough to engage most Daemon Princes and Champions. But a Chaos God? That is...rather unlikely."

Biting back on a less that diplomatic retort I instead take a deep breath and calmly reply with, "Emperor, I called myself a Campione earlier, which translates roughly to 'Champion'. A champion of Humanity as a whole. But more than that, I am a _Godslayer_. As are Angelique and Cassandra. We _earned_ those titles by killing _Gods_ , beings of legend and myth that are strong enough that the average Human might as well be an _ant_ compared to them. I've been one of these Godslayers for 93 years, the Sisters for 38 each. Our job, our _duty_ , is to find and destroy any rogue gods that could potentially threaten Humanity with their presence. And we're _good_ at what we do. We _like it_. So hopefully you can understand why we might be a _little_ pissed when you tell us to sod off and leave this Khorne fellow alone."

Closing his eyes for a brief moment the Emperor slowly and deliberately says, "Adeyemi...may I ask how the strength of the Gods in your universe was determined?"

"There was a number of factors that could decide that, such as the God's own strength of will or the nature of the ritual used to summon them...but a good rule of thumb was that the more people that know of or believe in said God's myth, the more powerful they would be."

"Similar to our universe then...the Chaos Gods are amalgamations of emotion itself, fed by the emotions of not just the trillions of Humanity but also the many, _many_ Xenos that inhabit the galaxy. May I ask how many people existed in your Universe a their peak?"

Already seeing where he's going with this I scowl and reply, "71 billion at the last consensus, give or take a few dozen million."

The Emperor reluctantly dips his chin and says, "Then even if we assumed the power of one of your people's belief was equal to a hundred of ours, you would be facing off against a God _hundreds_ of times more powerful than anything you have faced before. More than that, Khorne is the God of blood and battle. Whether it's an assassin skulking in the shadows before he slits his target's throat, a matron defending her creche against marauders, a General commanding his armies to assault a continent or even two honorable duelists facing each other... _all_ of these people offer their prayers, unintentional or not, to Khorne. Personally, I consider him to to be the most powerful of the four Chaos Gods."

I fiercely scowl and try to think of _any_ reason that I can go ahead and try to kill this damn thing...but quite frankly I just don't see _how_ when the damn being is said to be this powerful. Hell, I've _felt_ it's strength myself...I guess I just never really bothered to put things in perspective.

A quick glance at Angelique and Cassandra shows them with their poker faces on...but I'm familiar enough with their body language to see that they're _slightly_ uncomfortable with what they're hearing, Angelique shifting her right foot back and forth minutely while Cassandra is slowly running her tongue against the side of her cheek.

Dammit…

I huff an annoyed breath and ask, "Isn't there anything more you can tell me about this guy? Like how does he fight, act...shit like that?"

The Emperor shakes his head and explains, "The Chaos Gods have not fought their own battles for a _long_ time. Instead they let their worshippers do their work for them, fighting and dying across innumerable battlefields both in realspace and in the Warp. Although..."

Appearing contemplative for a moment the Emperor continues with, "A great many millennia ago I witnessed Khorne use his personal weapon, a sword named 'Warmaker' that was capable of not only tearing a hole in reality, exposing realspace to the Warp, but the effects of such a strike tore a planet in half."

His gaze turns stern.

"If that does not convince you to abandon your quest, there is nothing else I can say to convince you."

A sword that can rend apart reality huh?

…

A bloodthirsty smile crosses my lips.

"Hey, Emperor, this sword, this 'Warmaker'. Could it kill a Chaos God?"

Now frowning the Emperor replies, "Most certainly it could. It is merely the consequences of doing so that stay Khorne's han-"

I laugh. A loud, insane laugh.

"Oh this is _perfect_...well Mr. Emperor I appreciate you taking the time to explain everything to us, as well as giving me one _Hell_ of a crazy idea, but we need to get to work."

His expression hardens and he sternly orders, "Wait. How have my words, somehow, reignited your foolish campaign?"

I smirk and playfully reply, "Tell me, does this universe have a fighting art called Jujutsu?"

* * *

 _Right to Rule_ drops out above what the Emperor had called the Lake of Slaughter, a few dozen kilometers away from Khorne's place of residence, the Brass Fortress.

...Whoever's in charge of the landscaping here has some seriously imaginative-by that I mean fucked up-tastes.

An enormous lake of boiling blood that's being fed by absolutely _massive_ waterfalls of the crimson liquid, the surface frothing and boiling with insane fury.

It's nothing compared to the expansive construct of metal and bone on the far shore though. A beach of nothing but skulls and roiling blood absolutely _crawling_ with al sorts of Demons-I mean, _Daemons_ -that are just now reacting to our arrival.

The Emperor had managed impart the location of Khorne's fortress so we could skip all of the intermediary Hellscape and jump straight to the 'heart' of the dimension and confront the Chaos God directly.

"Chesty, do you have weapons locked on?"

" _Affirmative Slayer Adeyemi, ready to fire on your command."_

I take a deep breath and ask over a general channel, "Alright people here's the big one, we all set to go?"

A chorus of acknowledgments reaches my ears as all of the _Kadingr_ squads report in.

The _Isten Baba, Sana Baba, Dungnamtars,_ _Gibils_ (Ones of Fire) and _Kuan_ (Opening of the Heavens) are all set to go.

"Light em' up Chesty."

" _Understood Slayer Adeyemi. Commencing strafing of landing zone."_

On my helmet's display several targeting reticles come to life (more for our benefit than Chesty's) that paint a few dozen kilometers of the beachhead...and Daemons suddenly explode in a firestorm of munitions and energy scatter.

While _Right to Rule_ is more of a carrier and ground support style ship than it is a battlecruiser, in situations like this it's _lethal_.

Fire linked autocannons send a stream of .30 meter depleted uranium shells downrange at a blistering pace, 1-gigawatt lasers pulse in a staccato of invisible destruction and rows of missile batteries send almost 40 LAMs armed with miniature nuclear warheads on laser-guided paths of imminent cataclysm.

30 seconds after _Right to Rule_ opened fire, almost a 60 kilometer swathe of landing zone is a burning, irradiated wasteland.

"All forces, drop!"

Transports, S.S. suits and specialized vehicles carrying the massive war machines of the _Gibils_ all accelerate out of _Right to Rule's_ landing bays while the manned and unmanned aircraft of the _Kuan_ loop into wide spirals before running guard duty as the rest of the airfleet streaks toward the Brass Fortress.

Unable to stop the insane smile that comes to my face I hop into one of the _Amelatu's_ massive hands while the sisters take up residence on it's back, in between it's wing housings and maneuvering thrusters.

"Alright Kenny, let's get to work, shall we?"

My oldest friend's anticipatory voice comes out of the suit's speakers with, _"Oh you know it. Let's cause a ruckus!"_

With a hiss of servos the personalized S.S. leaps after the rest of the departing _Kadingr_ craft, my magnetized boots keeping me steady.

 _This_ should be fun!

* * *

Kenny

Being part of a full-scale invasion courtesy of the _Kadingir_ is always empowering in the extreme.

Hundreds of ARES equipped troopers spreading out in leaps and bounds, backed up by squads of S.S. suits and _Hercules_ combat droids, these frontliners providing a protective shield for the members of the _Dungnamtar,_ our main weapon against some of the more Supernatural elements we'll be up against.

Behind these initial forces roll the vehicles of the _Gibils,_ twenty meter long _Trailblazer_ hover tanks, armed with railgun turrets and smaller mass driver turrets alongside plasma casters.

But I would be remiss not to mention the _Holocaust_ walkers.

Immense war machines 300 meters long and standing 50 tall, resembling mechanical crabs with a veritable forest of turrets and missile launchers on the top of their 'shells' and 'claws', the _Holocausts_ have always occupied a weird spot in the hierarchy of military vehicles.

Being massively expensive and difficult to build, the _Holocausts_ had been designed to be the absolute pinnacle of ground support and superiority...except for one unfortunate detail.

They were rather susceptible to orbital bombardment, being large enough that orbiting weapons could hit them accurately and the walkers, while powerful, only defenses against such an assault are magnetic shields, point-defense turrets and a limited number of of ground-to-space missiles that could easily be detected and destroyed on their approach.

As a matter of fact, the first live fire operation a _Holocaust_ walker took part in encountered that very same problem, being pinned down by orbiting starships and unable to provide cover to the very troops it was _supposed_ to be covering.

The project was nearly scrapped right then and there if it wasn't for the battle of Corail.

A confrontation unrelated to Heretic God activity, the Republic of Quebec had come into conflict with the American Union over trade routes and the Union's first assault on the Quebecan planet of Corailhad gone poorly, leaving 10,000 troops stranded on the planet after their orbiting carriers had been surprised by Quebecan reinforcements and pushed out of their covering position.

Quebecan artillery units had started shelling the Union positions until a single _Holocaust_ walker, nicknamed _Dominus_ , had taken up a shielding position over the beleaguered troops and in between it's shields, incredibly accurate point-defense weapons and own cannons returning fire the Quebecan armies had been stonewalled for an incredible 11 _hours_ until Union fleet elements could fight their way back to evacuate the troops.

While clearly not meant for mass production, _Holocaust_ walkers were built in small numbers for specific campaigns and have been proving their worth for three decades and counting.

And we've got _two_ of them.

I glide in for a landing on the cracked and burning ground, Adeyemi and the sisters hopping down and completely impervious in their armor while the rest of the _Kadingir_ drops into combat formations, the _Holocaust_ walkers in particular disengaging their anti-grav repellers and dropping to the ground with a crash that shakes the 'Earth' for kilometers around.

Elements of the _Isten_ and _Sana Baba_ dart forward, scouting out the massive wall that makes up the initial defense of the Brass Fortress while the rest of us get organized.

 _Right to Rule_ also drifts forward, holding steady a few kilometers behind us and making sure it's complement of weaponry is constantly on watch.

Huh, so far things have been going pretty well-

-an earsplitting, metallic _scream_ sounds across the tortured landscape and practically all of our heads turn towards the morbidly named Lake of Slaughter just in time to see dozens of kilometers long leviathans made of bone and brass breach the surface of the lake, latching onto _Right to Rule_ with tortured screams of composites and armor as they bite into the hull.

Chesty immediately shifts the onboard weaponry to take out the attackers but the angles are fairly poor, the massive creatures already attached pretty solidly.

" _Escutcheon_ , Provide fire support for _Right to Rule_! Everyone else, stay on target!"

At Adeyemi's commands one of the _Holocausts_ ponderously turns around and it's two massive positron cannons immediately fire off sun-bright beams of annihilating particles, two of the bizarre looking bethnic things immediately finding their skulls destroyed by _Escutcheon's_ primary weapons, their elongated bodies slipping off the ship's hull.

But the two metallic monsters quickly find their hands full as fucking _Dragons_ made of fire descend from the crimson clouds above and join in the attack our ship, the sky around _Right to Rule_ quickly turning into a firestorm of flak, interceptor missiles and blinding flashes of light from particle beam weaponry.

Not our job.

" _Contact! Daemon horde coming in! Estimated number 30,350 give or take a few hundred!"_

I focus on the rushing mass of dark shapes that's headed towards us and the _Amelatu_ automatically zooms in.

Yow. Quite the crowd we've drawn here.

There's the usual mix and match of those humanoid goats and armored figures...but there's also a smattering of those massive armored beasts, the hairless dog-hamster things as well as our old armored friends, these newly named 'Chaos Space Marines'.

But there's a new type included in the group as well. Some flying Daemon creature that's pretty damn similar to those old terrestrial pictures of Christianic Demons, armed with a collection of axes, whips and other melee weapons.

Guess we'll see if they bleed just like all the rest.

" _Kadingir,_ link firing lines and make sure you're not overlapping! Let the _Gibils_ handle the large groups, focus on the faster and smaller ones! Lock and load people!"

At my pal's words hundreds of firing lines become overlayed on my heads up display, the criscross of trajectories quickly sorting themselves into efficient and lethal firing lanes.

"All teams, _fire_!"

 _Trailblazer_ tanks let loose enormous balls of plasma that incinerate anything around them in a 30 meter radius, S.S. suits pull the triggers on a collection of heavy weaponry ranging from lasers to solid state ammunition, _Firefly_ interceptors ignite huge waves of flame during their swooping dives, _Mockingbird_ fighter craft dive bomb lines of Daemons with their nose mounted lances firing clumps of fused hydrogen all while the _Shako_ , the _Holocaust_ that had stayed with us, blows shrieking artillery shells out of the sky with it's swivel-mounted laser gun arrays.

Ah...you just can't get a thrill like this anywhere else than on the battlefield.

* * *

 _Inside the Brass Fortress dozens of large, green-skinned humanoids stood before the massive gates that lead outside the fortress, all of them agitated and_ _belligerent._

 _So just another day in the never ending life of Tuska Daemon Killa and his boyz._

" _Oi, ya stupid git! Open da bloody gate, would ya?!"_

 _Tuska's demand was summarily ignored by the Daemons, the battle outside the fortress being far more interesting and bloody._

 _Things any Khornate Daemon was predictably distracted by._

" _Uh, Boss? I don' dink dat da gitz up dere are gonna led uz out."_

 _Growling angrily Tuska pouted before angrily gesturing towards the sounds of battle outside the building_ _and shouting, "I can see dat you zog! But der' a ol' lotta dakka dakka goin' on out der' an we missin' it! Anytin' dat make da gitz wit da pointy bitz go screamin'_ gotta _be a good scrap!"_

 _The Warlord muttered under his breath all sorts of grumpy threats until his lackey looked to where the Doom Mortars were firing away over the wall._

" _E_ _y' Bo_ _ss_ _?"_

" _Wha?"_

" _Those big gunz ova der, mebbe we can use em'?"_

 _Whirling around Tuska eagerly asked, "Eh?! How?!"_

 _Thoughtfully cupping his massive chin the lackey strained his brain to the maximum._

" _Well...da gunz shoot da stuff...an' it shoot it really far...if we_ ride _da stuff...we can get to da' dakka dakka!"_

" _..."_

" _..."_

" _Datz geniuz ya bloody git!"_

* * *

 _A few minutes later several hundred Orkz had gathered around the 'liberated' Doom Mortars, the Daemons nearby that had been manning them having their blood used as an improvised red paint._

 _After all, the red ones make things go faster._

" _Ah, Boss? Ahm not zo sure bout' dis no more..."_

 _Tuska merely shouted back, "Ah quit yah bellyachin' ya git! Aight' Boyz! Fire up da gunz!"_

 _The unlucky lackey, who had been shoved feet first down the Doom Mortars firing tube, was more than a little nervous at the proceedings and once again tried to raise his worries with, "Boss Ah gotta tell yah-_ _ **BANG**_ _-WWWWWAAAAAGGGggghhhhhhhh..."_

* * *

Adeyemi

The initial assault is going well, even if those flying Daemons are a whole Hell of a lot tougher than we'd initially expected.

Too bad the Emperor hadn't exactly had the time to go into detail just _how_ strong these things were and we're just going by guesswork here…

"...wwwaaaaAAAAGGGGHHHHH!"

The fuck was _that_?!

My question is answered a bare moment later as some kind of green humanoid almost 6 meters tall crash lands on a member of the _Isten Baba_ and crushes her underneath it's massive bulk.

...Huh?

The being gets up, the crushed form of the ARES equipped trooper dangling from it's harness, and slowly looks around before happily shouting, "Oi, Boss! I made it, dat big gunz plan wor-"

Approximately four converging streams of weapons fire impact on the humanoids face, completely blowing it apart in a spray of green fluid as the rest of it collapses.

...Well _that_ was a thing.

This place _is_ pretty wild after all, I suppose it wouldn't be-

"… _..wwwwaaaAAAGGGHHHHH!"_

…

Oh _please_ say you're joking.

It's raining little green men.

Except the 'littlest' of them is about 4 meters tall.

"AIGHT' BOYZ ITZ TIME TO GET TO DA DAKKA DAKKA!"

The largest of the humanoids, a crazed looking creature almost 12 meters tall and wielding some kind of metallic claw roars out some kind of broken English and a tired sigh escapes my lips as dozens more smaller version of the beast start plowing into the ground around it.

...And here I was, thinking things were just getting predictable...

* * *

 **Next chapter is gonna conclude with the battle against Khorne, as well as kickstart Adeyemi's introduction to the Imperium and the consequences of their actions taken in the Warp. Which is the part I'm looking forward to the most quite honestly, all the social interplay between two very different cultures is gonna be a blast to write :D  
**

 **MEleeSmasher: As Big E stated, it's about 10 or so years after those events (my best guess at a timeline) so the new Crusade headed by Papa Smurf is well underway.**

 **Amatsumi: Yup, you nailed it. No usurping Khorne's powers (or any Chaos deity for that matter) since the Warp is completely incompatible with them.**

 **Guest: We'll just have to see!**

 **Commissar Carl: The way I understand it is that by theoretically killing a Chaos God you wouldn't remove the concepts they represent, since the Gods were created by those very emotions in the first place. Anyone who's empowered by Khorne would obviously be screwed, but most people wouldn't be affected all that much, if at all.**

 **...granted, I have zero basis for that aside from my take on it, the rules of how the Warp works are played with pretty fast and loose XD**

 **AncientRaig: Fair point, but as omniscient observers we know that, the guy watching a round hit a piece of armor then explode almost instantly after would just assumed it was a contact-style round. But an understandable observation, in retrospect I could have re-written that better.**

 **And the aforementioned Magic incompatibility was covered in this chapter, glad you're liking it so far despite some understandable questions!**

 **Livelikeme123: Well he definitely met Big E, but yah he won't be able to gain Authorities from Chaos Deity kills, the Warhammer Universe operates on different 'rules'.**

 **Dude: You must have read my mind lol. While the battle against Khorne is something I'm looking forward to writing, the main meat is gonna be the confrontation between the Imperium and the universe hoppers :D**

 **shadow: Glad you did!**


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